Power Struggle
by Oritsu
Summary: One of the few Turles fics out there. A Saiyan is born on Vegetasei. Branded weak and doomed to die, he is without a friend in the world. One man has the guts to go against the odds and save this rambunctious baby. Enjoy!
1. Part 1 Chap1

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

** **

****The young woman threw back her head and screamed in pain.Her long, spiky black hair, now matted down with sweat, stuck to her forehead and cheeks as she writhed on the medical center bed.Her long brown tail lashed back and forth as the pain coursed relentlessly through her body.

"Push!" said the doctor who stood poised between her well-muscled legs to deliver her child.His light-blue skinned hands worked diligently as the infant's slick, black-haired head emerged.The child's torso and legs soon followed, its tail wrapped protectively around its waist.The doctor supported the infant with one arm and deftly tied and cut the umbilical cord with the other, examining the child for weakness and defects.The child waved its chubby little fists, scowled at the doctor, and immediately began to yowl as the cold cycled air of the med-center hit its wet, naked body. 

"It's a male," the doctor told the still laboring woman, who fell back against the bed panting in exhaustion.The doctor handed the wailing infant to a nearby attendant who immediately wrapped a blanket around the child and began to diligently clean the blood off of his tiny body.The doctor now turned his attention back to the young Saiyan woman lying exhausted on the bed.His long pointy ears twitched in surprise as he caught sight of the small brown tail twitching from between the woman's legs."What in the. . .," the doctor muttered as he leaned over and touched the tiny appendage, which lashed furiously against his fingers."It couldn't be," he said as he stroked the tiny tail.Another contraction rippled through the woman's body, causing her to arch her back and scream.A tiny foot appeared next to the tail. 

At the woman's cry, the attendants standing behind the doctor instantly turned their attention from the howling Saiyan infant in their care to the screaming woman and the doctor.One of them, a tall young humanoid man with light orange skin and long dark green hair pulled back from his face in a long braid stepped forward and placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder."What is it, Scleren?" the young man asked, concern creasing his brow.

Not turning from where he was working to free the infant's other leg, Scleren grunted and replied, "Nothing, Pazru, hand me another clamp and the scissors.I will need them again soon." Confused by the doctor's orders, Pazru looked over Scleren's shoulder and gasped.

"Twins?!Scleren, but . . . ."

"I know.One of these two children will not be allowed to survive.But that is not my concern right now.Hurry, Pazru, prepare the tools I need and call for another blanket."With one last glance at the second infant's lashing tail, the young man hurried to follow Scleren's orders.

The Saiyan woman thrashed her head back and forth on the sweat-soaked pillow and moaned loudly.Her tail whipped out from the bed, just barely missing a startled Pazru and knocking over a tray of instruments.Other attendants rushed to clean up the mess, being careful to dodge the lashing tail.

Scleren spoke soothingly to the young mother as he worked to remove the infant from her body.After a little maneuvering the infant's other leg was free.Scleren skillfully maneuvered one of his hands beneath the infant so that the child straddled his arm.In response the tiny wet tail wrapped tightly around his arm.He gently pushed his hand in further under the child until he reached its face, where he was swiftly bitten by the infant.Cursing under his breath, Scleren cupped his palm over the child's mouth to make an air pocket."Give me one more hard push," he pleaded with the howling woman.With an ear-shattering shriek the young woman forced the child, still straddling Scleren's arm, from her body and abruptly and mercifully fell unconscious, her tail hanging limply off the side of the bed.

Motioning to one of the attendants with his head, Scleren ordered, "Attend to the mother."A short, fat fish-like creature quickly obeyed his command. "Pazru, clamp."The young green-haired man was instantly at his side with the desired instrument.Flipping the infant over onto its back (_his_ back, Scleren noted), the doctor seized the proffered clamp and applied it the still pulsing umbilical cord.The Saiyan infant howled when Scleren broke the grip of his tail.Ignoring the screaming baby, Scleren obtained another clamp from Pazru and placed it a few inches lower than the first.Pazru stood ready with a clean pair of surgical scissors in his hand, which he swiftly handed over to the doctor who grunted and severed the cord."Blanket," Scleren demanded.A small long-snouted attendant with dark yellow skin and short, spiky lavender hair handed the item and several cleansing cloths to the doctor who immediately began to wash thick globs of blood from the infant's body.He then wrapped the soft warm blanket around the child's body.

The infant scowled at him, a tuft of damp spiky black hair partly obscuring one eye.This child was slightly smaller than his older brother and his skin was a shade darker.His tail snaked out of the folds of the blanket and securely wrapped itself around the doctor's arm, squeezing it for good measure."My, my, but aren't you the stubborn little one, ay, brat?" Scleren chuckled, pushing the ebony lock from the infant's face.Still holding the child in his arms he walked over to where the first infant was being held by a purple, pebbly-skinned attendant.The child had finally quieted and was staring wide-eyed at his surroundings.When he caught sight of the doctor and the small bundle in his arms, the first infant clumsily scrambled out of its warm blanket and up onto the shoulder of the surprised attendant, where he began to gurgle and coo excitedly.His younger brother was less enthusiastic about meeting his twin and began to wail and buck in the doctor's arms.The older twin, his dry hair already springing up in the spiky black disarray that would characterize his appearance for the rest of his life, as it was with all Saiyans, tilted his head in puzzlement at his younger brother's reaction and began to wail in empathy.

Pazru, chuckling, stood slightly behind Scleren watching the comical scene, but immediately sobered, knowing that one of these children would not be allowed to survive in accordance with Lord Frieza's decree.Pazru glanced back at the still unconscious mother being attended to by the fat fish-creature and then back to the howling children.He sighed.At this, Scleren turned, frowning, and looked at his young, sensitive attendant.Carefully removing the younger Saiyan's tail from his arm, Scleren handed the still bawling baby to a tall, muscular red-haired attendant.He ordered the infants to be taken to the nursery and fed, and the two attendants hurried from the room.Clapping his arm around Pazru's shoulders, Scleren led the troubled young man from the room.

"I understand how you feel.I do not desire for either of those two children to die."He steered Pazru into the adjoining scrub room, and sat him down on a cold metal bench running the length of the room.Pazru leaned back against the cool wall, scrunched his eyes shut, and sighed, his narrow shoulders drooping.The doctor turned to a small keyboard panel set into the wall next to the room's entrance and pushed a short series of buttons, the keys glowing red as he touched them.Finished, he turned away from the panel, which began to rapidly blink soft blue.The door panel silently slid shut behind him.Pazru, his face in shadow, suddenly spoke up.

"But why, why would Frieza demand such a thing?Wouldn't it make sense to let all the Saiyan children live?Then he would have more of them working in that blasted planet trade of his."Scowling, Pazru leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees, chin resting on his folded hands.A stray strand of silky green hair fell out of the braid and into his face.Angrily, Pazru tucked the loose strand behind one of his almost non-existent ears and resumed his intense study of the floor.

"It is not your place to question what Lord Frieza says," Scleren replied coldly as he pulled the blood-splattered tunic over his head.Pazru looked up at him in sudden terror, his large amber-colored eyes widening in shock.Scleren turned away from the frightened attendant, still holding the bloodstained garment, and walked nonchalantly over to a second keyboard panel on the other side of the room where he pressed several softly glowing buttons.A small, transparent door to the right of the panel opened with a hiss and Scleren threw the ruined tunic into it.He pushed another series of buttons and the panel closed."_Countdown to incineration,_" an emotionless mechanical voice sounded, and proceeded to countdown from 10, the panel flashing in response as each number was spoken.Scleren stood unmoving in front of the panel, arms crossed.A thin sheen of sweat broke out on Pazru's forehead as he stared wide-eyed at the doctor's broad back."_Incineration has begun,_" the robot voice said, and blue-white flames surged up behind the little door, consuming the soiled garment.Pazru's eyes widened even more at the sight of the blaze.Scleren suddenly turned around facing him with a smirk on his face, the shadows of the flames playing on one side of his face.In abject fear, Pazru sat up and pressed himself against the wall as best he could.

Still smirking, Scleren broke the tense silence, "Don't worry, Pazru, I'm not one of Frieza's informers.I hate that frigid son of a bitch just as much as everyone else."Pazru shut his eyes in relief, took a deep breath, and slumped down against the wall.Chuckling, Scleren reached up and released the ties holding his topknot.A mane of coarse, bluish-white hair spilled down to his shoulder blades."I really had you there, Pazru," the old doctor laughed, returning to the panel and receiving a new, clean tunic.

Giving a weak chuckle the relieved attendant replied, "You never do know who's on your side and who's not, Scleren.But why would Lord Frieza make such a decree?"

"Oh, well, you know, Pazru, the Saiyan population is getting rather large, and land for housing accommodations, and more importantly for the Saiyans, food supplies are running low, and. . ."

"That's ridiculous!" Pazru interrupted, his nostrils flaring in rage. "Vegetasei is enormous, with enough land and food for at least twice the current Saiyan population, not to mention the resident aliens such as us!"

"—and Lord Frieza only wants the strongest warriors out there clearing planets in that ridiculous trade of his," Scleren, his voice muffled as he pulled on the new tunic, ignoring his younger subordinate's interjection.Pazru sat hunched over, his fists clenched.Scleren's voice dropped in volume and suddenly became flat and serious."It's all nonsense, Pazru.That whole stupid decree concerning the limiting of the Saiyan population that Frieza forced King Vegeta to make law is one large load of _shit_."Startled at his mentor's use of profanity Pazru looked up at the old doctor.Pulling his hair out from underneath the neck of the garment, Scleren fastened and straightened the tunic, smoothing over the wrinkles with his long fingers."Let me tell you why I think Frieza made that decree.I think the _great _Lord Frieza is afraid of the Saiyans."

"_Afraid? _Afraid of the Saiyans?Scleren, honestly, I mean I know the Saiyans are powerful—they conquered both of our planets and hundreds more besides—but Lord Frieza has the power of a thousand first-class Saiyan warriors.I've even heard stories of him destroying entire planets without even breaking a sweat!Even if King Vegeta did lead the Saiyans in a revolt against Frieza, there's no chance that they could succeed, much less do any serious damage to Frieza or his minions, it's just ludicr—"

Faintly smiling, Scleren raised a long blue finger to silence his young student. "But what of the legend of the Super Saiyan?"

Looking up with raised eyebrows Pazru snorted and replied, "The Super Saiyan?You must be insane!That's just some dusty old story that Saiyan parents tell their children to make them train harder, nothing more.If Frieza really believed that I'd have to say that the cold was getting to his brain!"

"Well, maybe some of the legend is an exaggeration—"

"Exaggeration?You've got to be kidding, Scleren.The whole story is probably one long-dead Saiyan king's ego-trip!"

"—but, all of the Saiyan's violent history centers around the legend of the Super Saiyan—

"—But—"

"—and all of the histories of the inhabitants of the planets neighboring Vegeta include the Super Saiyan and his legendary power."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"All accounts coincide with each other.There are no contradictions whatsoever.Frieza knows this and fears the ascendance of any Saiyan, third-class or otherwise, to the level of Super Saiyan."

"But Frieza's power—"

"—would be equaled if not surpassed by the Super Saiyan, if the legend is correct."Pazru fell silent at this, his brow wrinkled in thought.With a grunt, Scleren kneeled in front of the young man, placing his calloused hands on Pazru's shoulders."So do you understand now, if I am correct in my logic, which I am almost positively convinced of, why the decree was made, Pazru?"

Amber eyes still deep in thought and muddied in confusion looked up into Scleren's wrinkled, rough-skinned face and small, wide-set deep-blue eyes."But, if Frieza wanted to keep the Saiyans from ascending to a higher power level, wouldn't it make sense to destroy the _strongest _children?" he replied, one orange finger stroking his chin in consternation.

"It would make perfect sense from _Frieza's _point of view to do this, but it would raise suspicion among the Saiyans, and King Vegeta would never allow such a law to be enforced.To destroy the weakest among the Saiyan children of a multiple birth is pure brilliance on Frieza's part because it accomplishes two things:One," Scleren raised a finger in emphasis, "the female Saiyans constitute about 30% of the population, and are typically weaker than the males at birth, so—"

"—if the females of multiple births were destroyed, it would lower the already low percentage of Saiyan females!"Pazru interjected, his eyes clearing as understanding set in.Scleren smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing. He squeezed Pazru's shoulders in agreement, and continued.

"Even though multiple births among the Saiyans are a rarity, which we witnessed earlier this morning, the lower percentage of females would eventually limit the growth of the population.And to speed up the process Frieza made the second law that limits the number of children each mated pair of Saiyans is allowed to have."

"But why would King Vegeta ever agree to the second law?" 

"Good, Pazru, that is my next point.Now, the second thing the law would accomplish would be that the knowledge that only the strongest among the Saiyan survive and grow to adulthood would boost the ego of the king, clouding his better judgment, and making him more apt to agree with Frieza and enforce the law.Frieza proposed the second law not soon after, and King Vegeta, most certainly a wise man, but still riding high on ego, readily agreed to it without a second thought."

Pazru's glossy green eyebrows lowered and his brow furrowed again."But, Scleren, there are still millions of powerful Saiyans that are not affected by these laws and still have the potential to ascend to the Super Saiyan level.These laws would certainly limit the growth of the population, but it would take literally hundreds of space-standard years to kill out the race, which, knowing the Saiyans' vitality, I doubt could ever happen.Frieza would have to find some way to dispose of the entire race if he was to rid himself of his fear."

"Yes, Pazru, and considering what we know of Frieza's power and his ruthlessness, do you even dare to consider the danger we and everyone else on this miserable planet is in?"Scleren stared gravely at his young student, who returned his gaze with wide, fear-stricken eyes.The old doctor gave Pazru's shoulders another squeeze and with a grunt, struggled to his feet.Scleren's features softened to the gentle, but stern countenance that all people in the med-center respected and knew so well.

"Come, Pazru, we have wasted enough time deliberating about harebrained conspiracy theories and things over which we have no control."Scleren gave his bright young student a wry smile, which quelled the younger man's fear.Pazru studied the smooth white floor of the scrub room for a moment, pondering the magnitude of what they had just discussed, and then stood up beside his mentor, returning his smile.Scleren continued, "It is now my duty to assess the power levels of each infant and determine which child will be allowed to survive."

Without another look at his student, the doctor calmly stepped up to the keyboard panel set next to the door, keyed in the code, and the door slid open with a rush of cool cycled air.Pazru, frowning in concern at this last, rather ominous statement, followed his mentor back into the med-center's delivery room and out into a wide hallway towards the nearby nursery.


	2. Part 1 Chap2

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

** **

****The nursery attendants looked up from their two new charges as the door hissed open and the doctor and Pazru stepped through into the nursery.The nursery was rather small and sparsely decorated with the same sterile white walls and smooth gray metal floor as the rest of the med-center.It also lacked windows, for access was restricted to only med-center personnel.After delivery, infants were taken to this first, private nursery for a full physical examination and testing of power levels.Afterwards the infants were given a bracelet bearing the name chosen by their parents and sent to the large main nursery where they could be viewed by anyone walking by in the adjoining hallway.Installed shortly after Frieza's population laws were announced, the private nursery was an ideal place to decide the fates of questionable infants.

Without delay Scleren took charge, pointing at a tall, emaciated lizard-like creature. "You, bring me a scouter immediately."The attendant hurried over to a small, hovering table of instruments.She quickly sorted through the different utensils until she came upon the piece of equipment the doctor had requested.With a self-satisfied twitch of her scaly red snout, she hurried back over to the doctor and handed him the device.The harsh white light of the nursery reflected off of the elongated rectangular piece of red, transparent glass attached to a short gray-white handle with dark purple finger grips.This scouter was modified from the ones commonly worn by the Saiyan warriors for the precise determination of power levels in the med-center.

Hefting the light device in one hand and gently stuffing it in one of the pockets of his tunic, Scleren stepped over to the two cylindrical beds with spherical transparent green lids in the center of the nursery.Still frowning, Pazru followed, ignoring the concerned looks of the other attendants.The two men stopped in front of the two fully enclosed bassinets (a necessity for the nearly fully motile Saiyan babies) and watched the two infants.The older, larger one was furiously sucking milk from a nearly empty bottle, one of many, Scleren noted as he caught sight of a multitude of empty bottles crowded onto one of the small tables next to the child's bassinet.The infant's tail swayed slowly from side to side and his toes curled and uncurled as concentrated on draining each and every last drop from the bottle.

With his free hand, Scleren pressed a small transparent button on the side of the bassinet.The thick, accordion-like cable attached to the top of the lid hummed and contracted, lifting the lid of the bassinet and exposing the hungry Saiyan infant.Scleren bent forward and lifted the child into his arms.The child took no notice of the doctor but continued to drain the bottle. 

The smaller, darker-skinned Saiyan baby in the neighboring bassinet also had an impressive collection of empty bottles cluttering his table, but it was not nearly as large as his older brother's.The infant sat in the middle of the bassinet scowling at the two men and his older brother, and waving a teething ring (given to the Saiyan infants in order to protect the nursery attendants) in one hand and yowling.His tail lashed back and forth in irritation.His hair, now dry, stuck up in a wild explosion of stiff, black spikes resembling his brother's.

Cradling the older infant in his arms, Scleren nodded to Pazru, who opened the second bassinet.The infant quieted and looked up and around in surprise as the transparent lid above him opened and the tall, narrow-shouldered orange-skinned man leaned over him.The infant tensed and his scowl deepened as Pazru scooped him into his arms."There, there, relax, little guy, I'm not going to hurt you," Pazru cooed to the annoyed infant.Faster than Pazru could react, the scowling child pulled back his chubby little arm and smacked Pazru in the face with the teething ring.Pazru gave a startled cry and stumbled back, nearly dropping the infant.One of the nursery attendants rushed to his side, but Pazru quickly recovered his balance and, supporting the child in one arm, held up his free hand."No, I'm alright, go back to your duties," he said to the attendant.She looked at him quizzically and started to clear the empty bottles from the infants' trays.

Pazru rubbed his sore, swelling nose with one hand and stared at the Saiyan infant nestled into the crook of his arm.The baby smirked at him and began to laugh and gurgle, waving his chubby arms, and the offending teething ring, at Pazru."Scheming brat," Pazru muttered from behind an amused grin.He swiftly plucked the teething ring from the child's little hand and handed it to a nearby attendant, who indifferently tossed it back into the bassinet.At the removal of his weapon the child began to wail disconsolately.Pazru tickled the infant's belly and the child swung a curled fist at his chin, which Pazru caught easily."Not this time, brat."The child stopped wailing, gave him a puzzled look, and tried to remove his fist from the young man's grasp.Pazru laughed and said, "Be good and I'll let you go."The child smirked at Pazru and wrapped his tail tightly around the young man's wrist.Still chuckling, Pazru released the child's fist and ruffled the baby's soft black hair.The infant gurgled happily and relaxed in Pazru's arms.

Caught up in playing with the bad-tempered Saiyan infant, Pazru didn't hear Scleren until he had cleared his throat for the third time.Startled, the young man looked over at his mentor, who smiled grimly at him."Don't get too attached to the child yet, Pazru. We still have to check their power levels."Reminded of the dreary job they had to perform, the young man's face fell, and he tightened his hold on the infant, who stirred uncomfortably in his arms.

Scleren pulled the modified scouter from the pocket of his tunic and pressed a small purple button on the outer edge of the handle.The scouter hummed into life, a small triangular cursor blinking on the modified eyepiece."Alright, its ready," Scleren said as the scouter bleeped three times.He held the scouter over the contented infant lying sleepily in his arms, the now completely empty milk bottle rocking back and forth on the floor at the doctor's feet.The scouter bleeped again as it scanned the child, and a series of numbers began to scroll across the screen.Scleren and Pazru watched with great interest as the numbers farthest to the left began to disappear and the scouter began to narrow down the infant's power level.In a space of a few seconds the numbers on the screen stopped scrolling and the child's power level glowed bright yellow off of the transparent green glass.

"Hmm, a power-level of 2.3," Scleren announced quietly, "not very impressive, even for the son of two third-class Saiyan warriors."He pressed the button again, clearing the number from the screen and resetting the scouter.The doctor turned to the infant happily cooing in Pazru's arms and held the scouter over him.The child's eyes widened in interest and he tried to grab at the red eyepiece.Holding the instrument just out of the child's reach, Scleren pressed the small purple button again.The scouter bleeped and the numbers began to scroll across the screen again.Pazru stared intently at the screen, unconsciously praying that the number would be higher than that of the first infant.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Pazru, the numbers stopped.Scleren looked at the screen and blinked.Pazru felt his heart catch in his throat.Scleren glanced at the gurgling child in his student's arms and back at the glowing numbers on the screen."Power-level 2, . . .2.25," he said shakily, taking a quick look at both infants."I . . . I've never seen any so close together before.There must be some sort of mechanical error."Pazru nodded stiffly in agreement.The doctor gave the scouter a brisk shake and scanned each child again.The same number popped up on the screen each time.

"Well, I guess we have our answer," Scleren sighed as he handed the scouter back to the red lizard-woman who returned it to the floating instrument table.Pazru felt his heart fall."Bring me this child's nametag," the doctor ordered a petite elfish creature with two pairs of eyes and dark magenta skin.The attendant handed Scleren a small, silver bracelet.Scleren turned it over in his hand, the lights glancing off the slick polished surface of the nametag."Kakarot, a good enough Saiyan name for such a hungry baby."He stretched the bracelet around his fingers and slid it over the wrist of the infant he held in his other arm.The baby waved its arms in Scleren's face and began to cry."What is the condition of the child's mother?" Scleren asked the elfish attendant.The petite man whispered quietly to the doctor, who nodded and handed the infant to the attendant."Good, take baby Kakarot to his mother, he needs to be nursed, Kami help the poor woman."The magenta elf nodded silently, all four eyes lowered in respect towards the doctor, turned briskly on his heel, and walked out of the room.

Pazru stood numbly in the center of the room, his face a mask of dismay.Stiffly, he glanced down at the unnamed and apparently unwanted infant in his arms.A single tear slid slowly down his cheek and fell on the infant's tiny nose.Curious, the child crossed his eyes to try and get a better look at the wet object sitting on his face.Pazru gently brushed the tear off of the nameless child's nose, quickly removing his hand when the child snapped at his fingers with sharp, already well-developed little teeth.The child giggled and grabbed Pazru's pinky finger in both of his chubby little hands.Pazru smiled weakly at the doomed baby and looked up to find Scleren's eyes on him and the infant.

Hands folded behind his back, Scleren slowly walked over to his sensitive young student and the infant.He gave the condemned child an unsympathetic glance and stared up into Pazru's moist amber eyes."The decision has been made.Put the child back into his bassinet," the doctor said in a flat emotionless voice.Pazru winced as if he had been struck.

"But their power levels are too close together to make an accurate decision, Scleren.You know how emotions can cause the Saiyans' power levels to fluctuate.The twins need to be tested again, I'm sure the levels will change, I—"

"You knew that one of these children would not be allowed to live," he interrupted in the same flat voice."I have made the decision.Unfortunate for this child as it may be, he must die."Pazru clutched the child tightly to his chest.The child gave a petulant cry and then was quiet. The young green-haired man hung his head and fixedly studied the smooth gray floor of the nursery.After a few moments he looked back up again and focused his clear amber eyes on Scleren.

"It doesn't have to be that way, though," Pazru spoke through clenched teeth."This is only one Saiyan child out of at least several thousand born on the planet today.If he was disguised and taken off of Vegetasei for a while he wouldn't be missed."

"You're right, one less Saiyan child wouldn't be missed.That's why you shouldn't be overly concerned if he is killed."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Oh, Pazru, I understand what you meant.I understand all too well," the doctor hissed, leaning forward until their faces were only inches apart."So you would risk being brutally tortured and killed by Frieza's minions to save a third-class weakling Saiyan infant who would eventually grow up to slaughter millions of innocent lives on countless planets all for trivial entertainment?"The doctor's heavy jowls shook in anger as he glared at his young student.

"No . . . I mean yes.Tortured?No.I, ah, wait, I . . .," the young man's brow wrinkled in confusion and a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his face as he pondered his mentor's harsh words, knowing deep in his heart that the old doctor was exactly right.Pazru took a deep breath to steady himself, pursed his lips, and replied clearly without stuttering, "This child is innocent, he has done nothing to warrant death."He spoke carefully, avoiding answering Scleren's question.

Scleren narrowed his eyes and stood up straight. "Hmm.So I see.And if this child were allowed to survive, would you say the exact same thing as bravely as you did just now to Lord Frieza?"Pazru sighed heavily and his shoulders drooped.Scleren stepped back, scrutinizing the young man's face, knowing that the battle was won.

"Now," he continued in a gentler tone, "give me the child."Pazru held the child slightly away from his body in reluctant compliance.As Scleren leaned over to pluck the infant from his student's arms, the infant suddenly snarled and clambered up Pazru's arm to his shoulder, where he perched, scowling and baring his teeth at the doctor.Startled, Pazru looked over at the wild-haired infant clinging to his shoulder.He could feel the wind generated by the child's lashing tail rushing by his cheek.

Wryly amused, Scleren stood upright and crossed his arms over his chest."Well, it was obvious that you had grown attached to the ill-tempered Saiyan brat, but I never could have guessed that the brat would have grown attached to you too," he said mockingly, his ice-blue eyes narrowing slightly."Fine, since the brat is going to die regardless of what anyone may do," Scleren glanced meaningfully at Pazru, carefully enunciating the last few words and continuing, "you may put him back in the bassinet."The infant growled and bared his teeth at the doctor, who snorted and turned away from the child and a subdued Pazru.

The young man plucked the scowling baby off of his shoulder and returned him to the crook of his arm.The baby's scowl softened a bit and his body relaxed in Pazru's arms, his tail wrapping affectionately around one of Pazru's arms.Pazru gave the child a sad smile and brushed a lock of hair from the infant's forehead.He looked up at the doctor's quickly receding back and said quietly, "What of the child's parents, what will they say if the child is killed?"

Scleren stopped, looked over his shoulder at Pazru, and replied, "They'll never know he existed."

"But the mother, surely she knows?"

"She was on the brink of unconsciousness, she couldn't tell if she had had one child or ten."

"Wouldn't the parents want to know that they have two sons?"

The doctor snorted in amusement before he replied, "With an appetite as large as Kakarot's is, I'm sure his mother couldn't be happier that she didn't have another infant to feed."

"And the child's father?"

"Knowing Bardock, he could probably care less about his two new brats and what became of them.Besides, he already has a son to train."The doctor grinned and shook his head slowly."I should say Bardock has quite a job on his hands training that one, if Raditz is anything like the baby I remember."Scleren's eyes misted over in reminiscence."Yes, Raditz was the terror of the nursery until he was sent on his first planet purging.The spitting image of his mother but with Bardock's temperament.Yes, Bardock couldn't care less about either of the twins with Raditz on his hands."

Returning back to the present, the doctor's eyes cleared and he glanced over at Pazru and the now sleeping infant in his arms."Come, Pazru, the day is young and we still have much to do.Return the child to his bassinet.The nursery attendants will see to him until his time comes."Scleren gestured to the two opened spheres sitting in the center of the room and motioned for Pazru to follow him as he turned and began to walk out of the nursery.

Unmoving, Pazru replied emotionlessly, "And when exactly will that be?"

"Oh, I'd give him two, three weeks tops, figuring on how long it will take to process all the paperwork Lord Frieza requires in such cases.Why?"The doctor stopped and turned to face Pazru, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in suspicion.He studied the young man's expressionless face carefully.Pazru stared dispassionately back at him for a few moments and then turned and stepped in front of the bassinet.He did not let Scleren see his look of relief as he leaned over and gently set the infant back into the sphere, taking care not to wake him.He straightened and pushed the small button on the side of the bassinet, watching as the semi-sphere slid back over the sleeping baby. 

"_Don't worry, little one.If it costs me everything, even my life, Kami help me, I'll find someway out of this mess for you.No matter what, I **won't **let them kill you," _Pazru thought, his countenance hardening in determination as he watched the lid form a seamless seal around the lower edge of the bassinet.He turned back to his mentor, a sly grin on his face."Oh, no reason.I was just curious."The older man narrowed his eyes at Pazru as the young man walked towards him, then smiled and clapped his arm around Pazru's shoulders.

"Good, I'm glad you understand now, Pazru," he said amiably as the two walked in tandem out into the hallway."There's no point in throwing your life, not to mention a promising career in medicine," Scleren looked up at his student from the corner of his eye and winked, "away over one bad-tempered Saiyan brat."Squeezing his student's shoulder in emphasis Scleren went on, "Am I right, Pazru?"

"One-hundred percent, sir," Pazru said, smiling wryly, a clever plan already taking shape in the bright corridors of his mind.


	3. Part 1 Chap3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

** **

Pazru and the doctor strolled slowly down the wide hallway of the med-center laughing and reminiscing about old times.

"—Well then he fired a ki blast straight through the wall, nearly killing his mate and child, who just happened to be in the next room!"The doctor threw his arms out to the side, illustrating with his hands the size of the blast.Pazru flung back his head and laughed, tears rolling down his face.

"So what did you do then, Scleren?" he asked when he finally caught his breath.

"I ran into the next room and hid behind one of the regeneration tanks.I figured that the way that Saiyan female looked as she stomped over the wreckage towards her mate, hair half burned away, a large ki blast ready to fire in one hand and the wailing baby in the other, an all out war was going to break out in any second! And when I would be found in the aftermath, I would be the first one to go into the regen tank since I happened to be sheltering behind it!"Pazru wrapped his arms around his aching belly and slumped over against the nearby wall, laughing so hard he couldn't stand up any longer.Scleren stopped beside him, mimicking the sounds of the battle between the Saiyan male and his enraged, half burnt mate.Then he bent over and grasped his knees, his not too inconsiderable belly shaking with the loud snorts and chortles of laughter.

The doctor and his young student remained incapacitated for sometime, until Scleren, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, offered a hand to Pazru and shakily pulled the young man to his feet.Shaking his head in amusement, Pazru steadied himself and took several deep breaths."Yes, Pazru," Scleren said, gently patting his student's back, "there's never a dull moment living around the Saiyans."The young man nodded in agreement and looked around at his surroundings, surprised to see how far he and Scleren had walked.

The med center occupied a considerable section of a massive complex of buildings that included the pod departure and landing zones, the quarters of all non-Saiyan personnel, a few seedy bars frequented by Saiyans headed toward the pod departure area, and various storage and training rooms.Long drab hallways stretched for miles and miles throughout the complex, connecting each and every section to all the others.

Pazru had been living at the complex on Vegetasei for several years now, ever since he had begun his medical training with Scleren.However, during those years he very rarely left the section of the complex housing his quarters and the med center, and had never ventured out of the complex itself for the sake of his own safety.Now as he walked at his mentor's side down another long hallway, Pazru realized, with a hint of alarm, that he was in a completely unfamiliar area of the complex and had no idea whatsoever on getting back to the med center.Fear coiled and twisted into a cold hard knot in the base of his stomach as he rapidly glanced around, trying to regain his bearings.He looked over at Scleren, who had fallen silent for the time being and was looking unconcernedly at the dull gray walls and humming, his arms crossed behind his back."_Figures Scleren would be perfectly calm when any minute now we could be caught in the middle of a brawl between two drunken Saiyans," _Pazru thought as he scanned the length of the corridor behind and ahead of them and kept his ears pealed for the slightest noise.

Scleren, with Pazru following rapidly behind him, walked down one long stretch of hallway after another, turning every now and then into another long hallway.He hummed a tune as he strolled through the labyrinth, seemingly oblivious of his young student's unease. At the next intersection he turned left, walked for a little ways, and suddenly stopped and slapped Pazru in-between the shoulder blades, enjoying the expression of utter terror that crossed over the young man's face at his touch. 

"Here we are, Pazru, pod landing zone, but I bet you knew that already," the old doctor said, a hint of amusement in his voice.Pazru collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily, one long-fingered hand clutching his chest.

". . .Y-y-yeah," Pazru finally managed to squeak out, still trying to catch his breath.The two had stopped slightly in front of a pair of large gray doors that opened to a long corridor that led to the pod landing zones.Pazru, still shaking slightly, slowly stood up and leaned against one of the doors.

Scleren chuckled, hands on his hips."What were you afraid of, Pazru?You don't think after all these years that I don't know my way around the complex?Still chuckling, he started to walk over to the young man who was still using the doors for support.

"V-v-very funny, Scleren," Pazru, voice quavering, slowly replied."You could of ki—" Pazru's voice was cut off as the doors slid open, making him lose his balance and fall forward into the gap, arms outstretched in front of him.A large dark shape tore through the doorway, colliding with the startled young man before he could hit the ground and flinging him against the far wall.The dark figure blurred past him down the hallway in the direction of the med center.Pazru slumped down against the wall, his head reeling from the blow.A small trickle of blood began to flow down the left side of his face from a large shallow cut on his forehead just above the eyebrow.Scleren had also been knocked to the floor by the rushing figure, but had not suffered any damage.He slowly got up, shook his head to clear it, and squinted at the retreating figure, which appeared to be a tall, broad-shouldered Saiyan male with another slightly smaller male draped over his shoulder.The unconscious Saiyan's head, covered by a thick mass of unruly spiky black hair bounced up and down with each step of the other.

The doctor shook his head crossly and glanced over at Pazru. Noticing the blood running down the side of his face, he immediately ran over to his young student.Scleren looked the young man over with an experienced eye and helped him to his feet.Pazru leaned against the doctor, his head still spinning from the blow.Still slightly disoriented, he looked down the hallway where the figure had long ago vanished around a corner.Feeling heat on the left side of his face, Pazru lifted a shaking hand and rubbed the warm and sticky substance from his cheek.Pazru's heart quelled at the sight of his own blood coating the palm of his hand.

"Don't worry, Pazru, it's nothing serious.We'll just walk on down to the med center and get you fixed up good as new.Just stay with me," Scleren spoke softly, struggling to bring the young man to his feet.

"Wh-what happened?What was that?" Pazru said in a quiet shaky voice that seemed to echo over and over in his mind.

"Hmmph, nothing new," the doctor grunted in irritation."It appears that Bardock has overdone it yet again and is in need of a nice vacation in a regen tank.Surprised he hasn't been killed yet, the crazy bastard."

At hearing the name Bardock mentioned, Pazru whipped his head back around in the direction the figure had gone, and regretted it instantly as a galaxy of bright white stars burst in front of his eyes.His stomach gave a nauseating lurch, and Pazru struggled to keep from vomiting.He scrunched his eyes shut and took slow deep breaths until the stars cleared and his stomach settled.He looked down the hallway again.The walls wavered in duplicate and triplicate as he stared.

"Bardock, . . .but isn't . . . that . . .," Pazru trailed off as he collapsed, unconscious, against Scleren, who desperately struggled to keep the young man from hitting the floor again.

Finally, after some difficulty, the old doctor managed to throw Pazru's limp arm around his neck.He then hooked his free arm around the young man's waist and began to slowly walk down the long hallway towards the med center, Pazru's feet dragging behind him against the smooth cold floor.

****

Pazru slowly opened his eyes and was nearly blinded by the bright white light above him.He scrunched them tightly shut again and rubbed at them weakly with hands that seemed to be made of rubber.When the afterimage had faded Pazru attempted to sit up, finally succeeding in doing so after the third time.His vision swam from the sudden rush of blood from his head, and he nearly fell back onto the table again.Disoriented, Pazru looked around the small white room.His mind was in a daze, he had no idea whatsoever how he had gotten here or why.He lifted one of his hands and began to massage his throbbing forehead, trying to remember.As he felt the rough bandages that circled his head just above his eyes, his memory slowly began to return.

"Doors . . . Bardock," he muttered slowly, trying to jog his memory.There was something important that he had to do, a nagging thought that revolved around and around in the back of his mind in a gray haze.He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to remember."Baby!"Pazru's eyes snapped wide open and he tried to leap from the table, but was stopped by a surging wave of nausea deep in the pit of his stomach.He curled over, arms wrapped around his abdomen, and waited for it to pass.

"Patience, Pazru," Scleren said softly. He rose from his seat near the door and walked over to the examining table where Pazru sat. "You have to take things more slowly.You got quite a blow to the head back there."The doctor, his face creased with worry, gently patted the young man's back.

"How. . . how much time has passed?"Pazru said apprehensively.Eyes wide with fear, he turned around and grabbed Scleren's arm."Is there still enough time?" he repeated even louder as he weakly squeezed the doctor's arm.

"Time for what?That crack to the head must have jarred something loose because you're not making any sen—. "Ignoring Scleren's irritated response, Pazru tried to stand up, but was quickly pushed back to his seat on the table by the doctor, who began to speak soothingly to him.

Head lowered, Pazru gritted his teeth in frustration, Scleren's gentle words taking no effect on him.He clenched and unclenched his fists in his lap and suddenly jerked his head up so that he was nose to nose with Scleren. "How long have I been out?!" Pazru shouted at the old doctor, who jumped back in surprise, his eyes and mouth wide with shock at his normally peaceful student's sudden outburst.

Pazru, taking advantage of the doctor's stupor, tried again to leap off the table and run past Scleren and out the door.However, his wound had seriously hindered his coordination and he didn't get very far before Scleren snapped out of his daze, grabbed Pazru's arms from behind, and dragged him back to the table."You're in no shape to go anywhere, Pazru.You have a minor concussion and need some rest." Still struggling, his young student began to repeat himself."You have been unconscious for a couple of hours," Scleren quickly interrupted.Pazru let out a deep sigh of relief and ceased his frantic movements. Scleren released his grip slowly and walked around the table so that he stood face to face with the young man."Now, what's so important that it couldn't wait until you had rested?"The doctor, arms crossed in front of him, cocked his head to the side and looked intently at Pazru, who nibbled his lower lip, searching for a reply.

"Well, I . . . I . . . I do have other duties to perform yet today."Pazru gulped and looked to the side, searching for a lie that would satisfy the doctor."Yeah, . . . you know, . . . my laundry needs to be done . . . my quarters are a mess, and I still have to complete those medical exercises you assigned to me yesterday."He trailed off, not sure if Scleren accepted his lie or not.His mentor was scrutinizing his face keenly, looking for answers that Pazru was none too willing to give.

After a long pause the doctor, eyes narrowing slightly, replied, "You're in no shape to be doing anything but resting."His voice was hard and commanding, and to Pazru's distress, a little disbelieving.Scleren continued to study his student's face intensely for a few more moments.His features suddenly softened and he said more gently, "Come on, Pazru, let's get you to your quarters.I'll send someone along later to pick up your laundry."He pulled Pazru's right arm around his neck and wrapped his left around the young man's waist. 

Pazru stood up slowly, relieved that his lie had worked, and leaned on the doctor for support as they began to walk out of the room.Scleren spoke again, "Though it's not usually a tendency of mine to do so, I think that, taking the situation into consideration, I will extend the deadline on those exercises I gave you until you have received some rest."With a twinkle in his eye, Scleren turned his head towards Pazru and continued, "Now don't you begin to think that every time you bang your head I'm going to give you extra time on your assignments.You need to learn to take a few knocks in the head if you plan to work with the Saiyans.Standing a safe distance away from doors is a good place to start."

Pazru smiled and gave a weak laugh.He then returned his concentration to his feet, which seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each."Yeah, dangerous things those doors can be," Pazru replied.Scleren chuckled quietly from beside him and steered the young man through the twisting corridors to his quarters.

****

_ _

Pazru groaned.The last three days seemed to have lasted a lifetime.Not only had Scleren confined him to his quarters, but he had also posted a guard outside his door to make absolutely sure that he didn't sneak out.He was sick and tired of pacing around his small room, thinking of ways to sneak the nameless Saiyan baby off the planet.He didn't know why he had become so caught up in trying to change the fate of the little brat, but he had given up trying to figure that one out early yesterday morning.

_"Now, maybe if I snuck into the nursery one night and switched the two babies, Kakarot would remain on Vegeta and the other one would be sent off the planet on his first mission.Oh no, no, no!I couldn't do that!" _Pazru tugged at his unkempt green hair and started another circuit around the room, his brow furrowed in thought._ "That would mean Kakarot would be killed in his brother's place, and I don't want either of them to die! Okay, maybe I could . . . No, no, that wouldn't work either."_He stopped for a moment, tapped his foot on the hard gray floor, and started to pace in the other direction, stroking his chin._"Let me think . . .I could sneak the baby into a pod already occupied by another baby.Yeah! That would work!"_Pazru stopped pacing, a jubilant smile on his face._"Yeah! Metako down at pod departures does owe me a favor, and it wouldn't take very long at all for me to slip the child into the pod.After takeoff, he would be safe-and-sound," _Pazru's smile suddenly melted off his face, _" . . . until a fight breaks out between the two babies_ _and they either damage the circuits of the pod and go careening off into space and right into a star, or they injure each other badly enough that they are unable to survive once they land on the target planet." _

__

Pazru sighed and flopped onto his bed.There just seemed to be no way to get the baby off of Vegetasei undetected.He squeezed the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes shut, trying to ease the ceaselessly throbbing headache.He wanted to find a way to smuggle the child off of the planet and manage to avoid torture in the process.The problem was, avoiding torture and maybe even execution just didn't seem like a possibility with the idiotic plans he was coming up with at the current moment.Pazru stroked the bandage covering the cut on his forehead, deep in thought.His eyes snapped open and he sat straight up, nearly voicing his thoughts to the empty room. 

_"Bardock, that's it, Bardock is the key! If I tell him about his other son and what's going to happen to him, I'm sure Bardock would do something to intervene.True, what Scleren said might be correct; Bardock may not care about another weakling child. But, I would think that he would rather his son perish on some hostile planet then have him murdered by a bunch of alien doctors."_

_ _

Pazru rose from the bed and rushed to the closet.He pulled on a fresh tunic and ran his fingers through his long silky hair, pulling out the worst of the tangles.He gave a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror, and noticing his unkempt appearance, straightened and smoothed the wrinkles out of his tunic, and quickly tied his long green hair into a loose knot at the base of his skull, his long orange fingers working deftly.He took another look at his reflection and, satisfied that he didn't look like a lunatic anymore, decided to make his escape.

Pazru walked up to the door and pushed it slightly to the side, trying to be as quiet as possible.Through the small crack he able to see the guard, a dwarfish creature with pebbly yellow skin and a pair of stubby horns, slumped against the wall, fast asleep.Smiling, Pazru slowly pushed the door the rest of the way into the wall.He crept silently out of his room and pulled the door shut.The guard stirred slightly at the nearly inaudible sound.Pazru tensed, eyes wide, and pressed his back against the wall, willing himself to melt into the scenery.The guard shook his head slowly, mumbled in his sleep, and turned to his side, his back towards Pazru.Not believing his good fortune, the young man quickly tiptoed down the hallway and turned the corner.The breath that he had been holding for what seemed like an eternity rushed out in one long whoosh.Pazru raised one slightly shaking hand to his face and wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead.After regaining his composure, he began to walk briskly down the corridor toward the regen tank room.His teeth clenched tightly, Pazru willed himself not to break out into a run so as not to alert anyone.

****

Several streams of gurgling bubbles spiraled upwards from the oxygen mask, flip-flopping into each other as they made their way to the surface of the tank.A few of the bubbles clung briefly to the wafting strands of thick black hair covering the head of the unconscious man floating in the tank before continuing their journey upwards.The man was naked save for several disc like sensors attached to his temples and nipples.A small oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, half-concealing a large jagged scar that ran the length of his left cheek.Over the mask, the man's thick black eyebrows arched down into a deep scowl.Below the mask, tan skin stretched tautly over lean sheets of rock-hard muscle acquired from a lifetime of fighting.

Another stream of bubbles seeped from the edges of the mask and began to slowly travel up through the green viscous fluid.The bubbles and slowly cycling liquid distorted and muffled the voices coming from the room outside the tank.Two men, one seated at a computer panel and the other standing slightly behind the first, talked quietly amongst themselves, occasionally pointing towards a few pictures and a long list of data displayed on the screen.Every minute or two, the data would refresh itself, and the pictures would change, displaying the physical status of the patient at one instant and several of his brainwaves undulating on the screen the next.Both men wore concerned looks on their faces as they studied the screen before them.

"This doesn't look good, Plenthor," the man sitting at the panel said worriedly, pushing a glowing button on the panel below the screen with one scaly green finger.Frowning slightly, the other man leaned over the technician's shoulder and peered closely at the two lines undulating slowly on the screen.His eyes widened as each of the waves spiked sharply, interrupting the formally calm pattern. 

The technician continued, running one of his hands through his brushy red mohawk, his fingers coming to rest on the rough scales covering the back of his head."He is physically sound, hardly a scratch on him actually, considering the difficulty level of Kanassasei, but this," one of his fingers shot out and traced the path of the spike rippling through the one of the waves, "shows me that Bardock is far from being okay mentally.I've never seen anything like it before."The technician glanced up at the motionless figure floating in the tank and shook his head frustration.Plenthor followed his gaze and stroked his long, meticulously trimmed beard, wincing slightly as he pulled a few of the soft white hairs a little too forcefully.Deep in thought, he slowly shifted his weight to his right foot and crossed his arms in front of him.

"And you say that this abnormality in the brainwave pattern started shortly after he was placed in the tank?"Plenthor asked the lizard-like technician after a few moments.The man grunted and nodded in agreement in response to the doctor's question.Plenthor slowly walked up to the tank and studied the portion of Bardock's face that was visible over the oxygen mask.He turned around suddenly and asked, "Malacca, was he unconscious when he arrived?" The technician nodded again."I assume that Toma brought him in then." Another nod.Plenthor chuckled quietly to himself."Toma perplexes me to no end, Malacca." 

Malacca grinned, "I know what you mean.Whenever Bardock gets himself into some kind of trouble that's ends up putting him in there," the technician gestured in the direction of the tank, "Toma turns into the worrywart of the year."Plenthor snorted and shook his head in amusement.

Malacca sobered somewhat and continued, "You know, Plenthor, for a while back there I was afraid that we would have to break out the tranquilizers.I have never seen Toma so upset before."

"Well, Malacca, if what he and the rest of the team told us is true, then I think that there was plausible reason for his concern.Toma said that Bardock took a weak blow to the back of the head from a wounded Kanassasei-jin and fell unconscious soon after. It takes a lot to bring Bardock down; his power level rivals those of the first-class Saiyans." That such a blow would knock him out is very improbable."Plenthor began to pace the room, his brow furrowed in thought.Malacca followed the doctor's movements, his reptilian features clouded with concern."That and this disturbance in his brainwave pattern make me think that Bardock is in a much more serious condition than we originally thought" he concluded grimly.

The doctor walked over to where Malacca was sitting in front of the computer panel, glanced at the screen, and shook his head in confusion as the spike rippled across it again."Malacca, in my whole career I have never seen anything like it before.If I didn't know any better, I would say that Bardock's brain is running at least twice as fast as normal."

Both men immediately quieted as they heard the door to the room hiss open behind them and turned their focus from the computer screen to look at the visitor.Pazru stood uneasily in the shadows of the doorway trying desperately to come up with a convincing reason for his presence in the regen tank room.Still uncertain of his story, but not wanting to alert the doctor and the technician by staying to long in the doorway, Pazru stepped forward into the bright light of the room, smiling apprehensively at the two men.

Plenthor and Malacca relaxed visibly at the sight of the tall young man.Malacca, looking troubled, mumbled a greeting and turned back to the keyboard, his fingers moving rapidly over the softly glowing keys.Plenthor slowly straightened, wincing slightly as the joints in his back popped audibly, and turned to face Pazru, a forced smile on his face. 

"Good afternoon, Pazru, it has been quite a while since we have had the pleasure of your company in the regen tank room."The doctor slowly began to walk over to the young man then paused and carefully adjusted the wide shoulder pads, very similar to those found on Saiyan armor, of his tunic.Satisfied with the fit of the pads, Plenthor stepped up to Pazru and extended one of his hands in greeting.Pazru did likewise and slowly shook the doctor's large calloused hand, trying to remember the last time he had seen the man.

He had first met Plenthor sometime after he had arrived on Vegetasei, and had done some brief training under his watchful eye before being assigned to Scleren.At first, Plenthor's quiet mannerisms had greatly confused Pazru, who had always had some difficulty reading people, and had made it difficult for him to form a bond with the man.Time had improved his relationship with Plenthor, but Pazru was never as close to him as he was now to Scleren.Even though Scleren's motivation and all around charm inspired him more, Pazru had always harbored a great respect for Plenthor. 

However, Pazru could never say the same about the doctor's partner and technician, Malacca.Pazru had to admit that the lizard-like man was very talented and capable, but Malacca's constant nervousness, a quality he knew all too well that he himself possessed, grated on his nerves and increased his own level of stress.Plenthor seemed to get along well with the technician, but Pazru knew without a doubt that had he not been assigned to Scleren when he was, Malacca would soon have driven him insane.

Large amber eyes misted in thought, Pazru completely missed Plenthor's question and stayed lost in his own world until the doctor waved his hand back and forth in front of his face several times.A little startled, the young man inhaled sharply, blinked a few times, and hastily said, "Forgive me, Plenthor, I've been a little ill lately and things just seem to slip right through my head."Embarrassed, Pazru looked away and absentmindedly scratched at the bandage on his forehead.

"Of course, of course, Malacca and I heard all about your little run-in with Toma."Pazru was caught by surprise when Plenthor suddenly leaned forward and gently lifted the bandage from his forehead.The doctor carefully examined the wound, lightly tracing the jagged edges of the small, scabbed over laceration with his forefinger.Pleased, he smiled and nodded his head once and let the bandage snap back onto the surprised young man's forehead. 

"Hmmm, yes, it's healing very nicely."Plenthor nodded again slowly and then straightened, arms folded comfortably behind his back.He began to speak. "Pazru, I would like to apologize for Toma's behavior.When Bardock is injured—which, may I add is quite often—Toma tends to become a little . . . ," he searched for the right word, eyes probing the ceiling for an answer, " . . . excited."Malacca, beady black eyes still riveted on the computer screen, snorted in amusement, drawing a small smile and reproving glance from Plenthor.Pazru was slightly confused by this little interplay between the technician and the doctor, but was inwardly relieved that the conversation had so easily turned to Bardock with no lying whatsoever on his part. At least, he thought with some trepidation, not so far.

Quickly, so as not to waste his opportunity to obtain the information he needed, Pazru motioned in the direction of the tank and casually asked, "So this is Bardock, huh?"

Plenthor, his expression grim, looked over at the motionless figure floating in the tank and nodded without a sound.A long pause ensued during which Pazru tried frantically to think of something to say that would move Plenthor to give him more information than just a nod.Pazru gently placed his hand on Plenthor's shoulder, causing the man to jump, and asked quietly, "You seem very concerned about his condition, Plenthor.Are his injuries serious?"

The old man turned away from Pazru and silently stood gazing at his patient, his lips pursed tightly in worry.If he had heard the young man's question he gave no indication.Pazru stared at the doctor's back, respectfully silent, understanding completely Plenthor's concern for his patient.

Several moments passed during which no sound except for the soft blooping and bleeping of the keys at Malacca's computer panel and the quiet gurgling of the tiny bubbles in the regen-tank filled the room.The uninterrupted silence was beginning to make Pazru uncomfortable and he wanted desperately to forget everything, the child, his plans, everything, and leave the room.He gritted his teeth in resolve and began to repeat his question, but was cut short by Plenthor's quiet reply.

"To be honest, Pazru, I don't know what is wrong with Bardock."

Pazru froze in alarm, his gaze fixed on the doctor.In his short time with the Plenthor, Pazru had never seen the man so perplexed by a patient's condition that he was unable to give a diagnosis.If Plenthor, one of the top doctors in his field, was unable to pinpoint the nature of Bardock's injuries, then it was almost a certainty that Bardock wouldn't survive.If this was true, then all of Pazru's plans would be rendered useless, and the child would most certainly be killed.His thoughts spiraled down a dark pathway, and he began to doubt if he was even capable of carrying out his plan.

Plenthor cocked his head to the side and looked quizzically at him.Roused from thought, Pazru hastily looked away, unsure of how to reply to Plenthor's ominous statement.He grimaced and faced Plenthor.

"So, uh, are you saying . . . no, um, well, what I want to . . .okay, so is Bardock . . . no, that's not what I mean."Frustrated, his face bright red with embarrassment, Pazru struggled to find the right words.

Absolutely baffled by his former student's behavior, Plenthor stared at Pazru and raised one of his eyebrows in amazement. Even Malacca looked up from the computer panel to look at the stuttering young man. 

Aware of their scrutiny, Pazru's face turned even redder and his words became even more garbled.He stopped talking and wiped away the thin film of sweat on his forehead with one long-fingered hand.He then shut his eyes tightly, clenched his fists, and took several deep breaths.After a few long moments, he began to speak. 

"Plenthor, do you think Bardock will ever regain consciousness?" he asked quietly and slowly.

Plenthor continued to stare at the young man.He studied Pazru's face, noting his wide amber eyes and tightly pursed lips.He gave a small smile and replied, "I am almost positive that after a few more days of rest Bardock will be up and about."

"When will that be?" Pazru blurted out without thinking. 

Plenthor narrowed his eyes and asked, "Pazru, since when are you so concerned with the condition of one of my patients?" 

Pazru, realizing his mistake, cringed and decided that it was time to make an exit before he aroused too much suspicion.He absentmindedly began to rub the back of his neck and laugh loudly as if he found the doctor's question the funniest joke he had heard in ages."Oh, no reason, Plenthor.It's just that his son was born a few days ago and I just thought I'd ask when Bardock would be out of the regen tank so he could see the kid before he got sent on his first purging mission."Plenthor and Malacca stared at Pazru with a look of utter puzzlement.

Still laughing, Pazru quickly pulled up the sleeve of his tunic and looked at his bare wrist.His eyes widened in shock and he quickly pulled the sleeve back over his bare wrist before either Plenthor or Malacca could see that he wasn't wearing a watch."Oh wow!Look at the time!" he said, still laughing."I'd better get back to my quarters and finish my assignment or else Scleren will put me on meal restriction!"Trying to be as subtle as possible, he began to walk backwards towards the door panel."It was great seeing you two again, I hope everything goes well." 

Before Malacca or Plenthor could say a word, Pazru had pushed the button to open the panel, darted through the opening into the hallway, and vanished from sight.Plenthor looked over at Malacca and the two stared at each other for a few moments.Plenthor finally broke the silence."That boy just keeps getting stranger and stranger every time I see him."Malacca nodded in agreement and turned back to the computer panel.Plenthor shook his head slowly in amusement, and then turned his attention back to his patient.


	4. Part 1 Chap4

1 Chapter 4  
  
The child lay on his back in the middle of his bassinet, scowling, his tail twitching angrily. It had been quite some time since he had received his last bottle and he was very hungry. Angry, he squeezed his large black eyes shut, opened his mouth wide, and began to wail as loud as he could. He waved his tiny fists in the air and kicked out with his feet in desperate hope that someone would see and come to feed him. His vision became blurry and tiny tears began to roll down his cheeks. He began to scream even louder, arching his back against the soft padding beneath him, but to no avail. Face red and tear-streaked, he rolled over onto his belly. He began to pound the soft cream-colored padding of the bassinet, his clenched fists making soft thumping noises as they sank into the thick material. His tail lashed out furiously behind him as his hoarse cries pierced the air.  
  
Finally, exhausted from hunger and crying, he flopped onto the soft padding and listened to the rapid beating of his heart. His tail lay limply beside him, the tip twitching every now and then. Each breath scratched at his raw and aching throat; he swallowed several times to alleviate the pain. The child rubbed weakly at his face as he felt the sting of drying tears. He slowly closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the quiet hum of the machinery regulating the temperature and humidity of the bassinet.  
  
He awoke a few hours later to the dull, throbbing pain of hunger in the pit of his belly and immediately began to cry weakly. Still sniffling, he managed, with some effort, to prop himself upright. He studied his surroundings with wide, dark eyes. The spherical lid of the bassinet and the large accordion like cable attached to it were a familiar sight to him, but the room surrounding it was not. Curious, the child leaned forward, pushed himself up on his hands and feet, and then slowly stood upright. He carefully and slowly began to shuffle towards the side of the bassinet, arms outstretched and tail waving wildly back in forth behind him for balance. A few teetering steps and he was able to lean forward and rest his hands on the transparent lid. The lid slightly distorted the room and tinted it a dull green. He pressed his face against the glass-like material to cut out the glare from the overhead lights, and peered at this unfamiliar room.  
  
It was small, drab, windowless, and dimly lit. There were several small tables covered with a multitude of shiny instruments, miscellaneous electronic pieces, and bottles and tubes of all shapes, colors, and sizes lining the wall nearest to him. A small computer panel was rooted in the floor near his bassinet, which was, as far as he could tell, the only one in the room. His breath began to fog the glass-like material, and he shuffled to the right, his nose leaving smear-marks on the lid. He squinted to see the end of the room farthest from him. In the dim light there appeared to be one large and several small pieces of machinery set against the far end of the wall to his right. On his left-hand was the door panel and another small table, this one empty. From what he could see, there was no food, and he sensed that there were no people in the nearby vicinity.  
  
Frustrated, he pushed himself away from the lid and let the glare from the lights obscure the room outside. He started to turn away when movement caught his eye. Face brightening, he whipped around and ended up face-to- face with his own reflection. He cocked his head in mingled surprise and confusion, and was startled when he saw the figure do the same. He began to scowl as he studied the figure's unruly mane of black, spiky hair and thick black eyebrows scrunched together in a scowl over his large black eyes. Believing the reflection to be his brother, the child growled playfully, crouched low to the ground, and pounced. His "brother" followed suit. The child collided head first with the hard lid of the bassinet and fell backwards, stunned. He gently rubbed at the large red lump forming on the crown of his head with one shaky hand. His lower lip began to shake, and he began to scream in pain. Several minutes passed, and sensing—with what little understanding he had of the cruel world he had been born into—the utter futility of his tears, the child began to calm. Still whimpering a little, he wiped the tears off of his face with the back of one small, chubby hand, and sent a menacing glare at his brother, who apparently had disappeared.  
  
He sniffed a few times and stared, wide-eyed, at the spot where his brother had been just a few moments ago. All he could see was the far side of the room. The child craned his head around, but his brother was nowhere in sight. Unsettled by the sudden disappearance of his twin, the child wrapped his tail around his waist protectively and began to suck his thumb, his eyes wide and darting back and forth as he searched the room. He jumped as one of the small machines gave a loud, protesting screech and hummed to life. Frightened now, he scuttled to the center of the basinet, eyes never leaving the machine at the far end of the room. His hand ran across the familiar pockmarked texture of his teething ring, and without slowing, he crawled past it and snatched the ring up with his tail. Finally reaching the center of the bassinet, he plopped down on his rear. Eyes still darting from one side of the room to the other, the child absentmindedly took the small white teething ring from his tail and began to gnaw on it thoughtfully.  
  
He suddenly bit down hard on the small ring and hunched over in pain as a sharp cramp clenched his empty stomach in a vise-like grip. He flopped over onto his side and curled into a tight little ball, his eyes clenched shut. The loud grumbling and groaning of his stomach reverberated against the lid of the basinet and seemed to echo endlessly in his tiny ears. The cramp finally subsided, and he lay panting on the soft padding of the basinet, the teething ring clasped tightly to his chest. A few tears slid down his cheeks and dropped onto the padding of the basinet, where they left little wet marks on the soft material.  
  
Stomach still aching dully, the child slowly eased up into a sitting position, drew his knees to his chest, and wrapped his tail around his legs. He began to weakly suck his thumb and rock slowly from side to side, the motion calming him and easing his aching head and stomach. An errant strand of hair fell in his eyes, but he didn't move to push it away. He looked downward and focused his gaze on the tip of his tail, trying to lose himself in the short brown hair that covered it. His tail twitched in sympathy to his hunger, and he removed his thumb from his mouth and gently wrapped his fingers around the small appendage. He stroked the soft, thick brown hair with his still damp thumb, causing a shiver to run up his spine. Hunger forgotten for the moment, the child continued to study the hair covering the tip of his tail. He bent forward to get a closer look and giggled as the tip of his tail twitched, tickling his nose.  
  
A sudden feeling of desperation pervaded his mind, making his smile disappear. Sighing, the child released his tail and looked upward. The dim lights above made a small corona around the accordion-like tube affixed to the top of the bassinet, and he stared at the softly glowing ring, letting the light obscure the room around him.  
  
He remembered awaking for the first time in this strange new room. Before he had even got a chance to examine his strange new surroundings, the door to the room had hissed open and a dour, pockmarked attendant with sunken eyes and scaly green skin had entered pushing a tray of bottles in front of him. The man had stopped next to the bassinet and, assuring that its occupant was on the other side of the dome, pushed the small square button that opened the lid.  
  
The child, unaware of the events soon to follow, had crouched and leapt at the attendant, who calmly reached into the pocket of his greasy, dirt- streaked tunic and pulled out a small black rectangular device with a large red button in the center. Impassively, the attendant had pushed the button, causing a blinding purple light to shoot out from the device and envelop the pouncing Saiyan infant. Paralyzed from head to toe, the child had fallen in a small heap onto the padding of the bassinet. The man then had proceeded to grab one of the bottles from the tray with a clawed hand and hurl it at the child, striking a glancing blow to his head. Laughing at the infant's discomfort, the attendant had stood back and watched with sadistic delight as the child struggled to rise.  
  
The same attendant came again to feed him later and, undaunted, the child pounced at him again, only to receive the same cruel treatment. This sequence of events occurred several more times, and each time the attendant arrived to feed or clean the child, he was even crueler and more abusive than before. Sometimes he would greet the child with another paralyzing shock from the small rectangular device and then give his tail a vicious tug. Other times, the man wouldn't come for a long period of time, and then tease him by waving the bottle back and forth outside of the bassinet.  
  
However, never before had the attendant been this long in coming to feed him. The child's stomach growled, and he moaned in hunger. He almost welcomed the return of the attendant and the subsequent abuse if it meant that he would be fed. A flurry of bright white stars flew in front of his eyes, and he rubbed at eyes weakly. His thoughts were becoming muddled and his vision blurry. Grasping his belly with one rubbery hand, he began to sway back and forth. Finally, he fell over onto his side, blissfully unconscious.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
The hiss of the door panel sliding open didn't rouse him from his deep, coma-like sleep. The child lay on his back, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible. A long, thin shadow fell over the unresponsive infant and lingered for a moment. Its owner quietly bent and pressed the small, softly glowing button on the side of the bassinet. The lid quietly hummed and rose, and a pair of gentle, long-fingered hands carefully slid beneath the child and lifted him from the bassinet. The figure cradled the unresponsive infant to his chest. Freeing one hand, the figure carefully slid two fingers into the child's armpit, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and erratic, but there nonetheless. Relieved, the figure adjusted his grip on the child, reached down into the pocket of his long white tunic, and pulled out a small bottle. He brought it up to eye-level and smiled as he watched the milk slosh back and forth in the little container. The figure then proceeded to carefully maneuver the nipple into the child's mouth.  
  
Acting on instinct, the child opened his mouth and began to suck weakly at the bottle. The instant the warm milk began to flow freely into his mouth and down his throat, his eyes snapped open in surprise, and he began to suck at the bottle with such vigor that the figure began to fear that the child would rip the teat right off the bottle. Completely oblivious to everything except the milk pouring down his throat and into his previously empty belly, the child sat up and grasped the bottle in both chubby little hands and ripped it from the long orange fingers that held it. He tilted the bottle up and drained the last few drops from it, pulling it from his mouth and shaking the bottle up and down to make sure. He was still ravenously hungry, but the milk had been enough to renew his energy and satisfy his dry, aching throat.  
  
"My, my, if I had had any idea that you would be this hungry I would have brought more bottles with me," the figure chuckled.  
  
At the sound of the voice the child's head snapped around and his body stiffened. His eyes narrowed menacingly at the figure's shadowed face, and his tail, hair bristling, began to whip back and forth in anger. A look akin to fear passed over his face but was soon replaced with a look of pure hate. A growl sounded low in his throat. The empty bottle, now forgotten, dropped to the floor with a dull, hollow thud.  
  
Looking at the child in mingled fear and confusion, the tall, thin man began to speak, "Shh, shh, I'm not here to hurt you. Here," he said as he backed up, letting the light fall fully on his face, "don't you remember me?"  
  
The child paused, features softening, and cocked his head to one side. He slowly examined the man's face, taking in the large amber eyes, smooth orange skin, and the soft wisps of green hair partially obscuring a large white bandage that was wrapped around the man's forehead. Confused, the child sat back and stared at the man. He was strangely familiar, yet the child could only scantly remember when and if he had ever seen him before.  
  
However, the child could sense that this man meant him no harm, and he didn't resemble the other cruel attendant in the least. Satisfied that this was not the attendant who had been torturing him for the past few days, the child sighed contentedly and relaxed completely in the man's arms.  
  
Pazru smiled as he watched the child's tail wrap securely around his wrist. He reached down into his pocket again and began to speak gently to the child. "Good, I knew you would remember." Pazru pulled a small yellow bar from his tunic pocket and brandished it in front of the infant. "Judging by the way you drained that bottle I would hazard a guess that you're still fairly hungry, and it's about time that you started on some solid food."  
  
The infant scowled in puzzlement at this strange new object the man held in his hand. He glanced distrustfully up at Pazru, who smiled and held the bar out to him. The child leaned forward and sniffed at the strange thing in Pazru's hand, wrinkling his nose at the strong, slightly oily scent.  
  
"Yes, I know, it's not the most pleasant thing you'll ever smell and it tastes nearly as bad, but it is good for you." Pazru looked away as if embarrassed and said quickly and quietly, "And it's all I could get my hands on at the moment." He looked down to see the infant, one thick black eyebrow cocked, staring at him in total incomprehension.  
  
Pazru sighed and, smiling, moved his hand so that the bar was nearly touching the infant, who, after giving him another wary look, snatched it from him. The child held the little yellow bar up to his face and, scowling eyes on Pazru, tentatively licked the bar. Pazru laughed at the look of total disgust that crossed the infant's face. The child began to spit and rapidly move his lips and tongue over his teeth, trying to remove the bitter, grainy taste from his mouth. Pazru began to laugh even harder, and the infant stopped what he was doing to glare up at him and growl. The young man quieted immediately, covering his mouth with the back of his free hand in order to suppress the giggles. However, the utter seriousness of the infant's expression started him laughing all over again.  
  
The child's scowl deepened and, still glaring at Pazru, he took a large bite from the bar and swallowed it whole, causing him to choke. Pazru immediately stopped laughing, turned the child face-down, and pounded the heel of his hand against the child's back. The offending chunk of food shot out of the child's mouth and across the floor. Coughing, the infant struggled until the young man set him upright again. He shot Pazru a menacing glare and proceeded to take another bite of the food bar.  
  
Pazru grabbed his hand and received another growl for his troubles. "Take it easy, little guy. Chew, that's what those sharp little choppers are for, though I'm sure Scleren and the nursery attendants would surely disagree."  
  
After several tries, he managed to wrench the food bar away from the growling child. "It also helps to take small bites. "Here, watch me." Pazru lifted the bar to his mouth and, ignoring the baby slobber covering the half-masticated piece of food, took a small bite. He slowly chewed the chunk of food with his mouth open so that the child could see what he meant. The only response to his efforts was an urgent, angry growl from the infant.  
  
"Okay, okay, it's your turn," he said as he broke a small piece off of the bar. He handed it to the scowling infant, who angrily snatched it from his hand and lifted it towards his mouth, intent on swallowing it whole. "Ah, ah, ah," Pazru scolded. "If you don't chew that it's back to bottles for you."  
  
The infant scowled and stuck the small chunk in his mouth. Looking upwards towards Pazru, he began to chew open-mouthed and very forcefully, spraying a mixture of saliva and food onto Pazru's face. The child swallowed noisily and smiled smugly. He then crossed his chubby little arms over his chest and smirked at the young man.  
  
Annoyed and slightly amused at the same time, Pazru wiped the mess off of his face with the back of one hand and smeared it onto the side of his tunic. "Better," he said and smiled wryly. 


	5. Part 1 Chap5

1 Chapter 5  
  
Pazru was beyond frustration; things weren't going to plan at all. At first, the only hitch was that Bardock was incapacitated in the regen tank for some unknown amount of time. That he could work around. However, this business with the infant could very well sabotage the whole plan.  
  
Pazru pinched the bridge of his nose and began to massage his forehead beneath the bandage, being careful not to touch the large, scabbed-over laceration underneath. Sighing in frustration, he ripped the itchy bandage off of his head and stuffed it in the pocket of his tunic. The wound began to tingle as the cool air hit it and Pazru rubbed at it carelessly, gritting his teeth as his fingers hit the tender, healing skin. He mumbled an expletive and quickened his stride down the long, brightly lit hallways, not caring where he was going. The events of the day turned over and over in his mind with no sign of ceasing, and he felt that he would soon go insane.  
  
* * *  
  
Soon after his hasty retreat from the regen-tank room, Pazru had picked up a quick lunch and headed towards the nursery. Even from quite a ways off his sensitive ears were able to pick up Kakarot's cries, and he soon came to the large windows that separated the hallway from the main nursery. Eyes squinted so as to see past the glare of the overhead lights, Pazru approached the nearly floor to ceiling length windows, amazed that the child's cries could pierce the thick, tempered glass.  
  
He carefully scanned the room, trying to make sure that Scleren wasn't lurking somewhere inside, waiting to catch him out of quarters. Save for Kakarot and two attendants sporting thick earplugs, the nursery was empty. Trying to act a casual as possible, Pazru strode inside and was nearly deafened by the force of Kakarot's cries.  
  
"That kid sure has a set of lungs on him," he thought as he had stared at the small Saiyan infant howling in the bassinet. He suddenly frowned. "I sure hope his brother isn't near as noisy as he is, for my sake as well as his."  
  
Pazru walked past the wailing baby towards the private nursery in the back, waving to the nearest attendant. Seeing the gesture from the corner of her eye, she slowly straightened, hands pressed against her lower back, and grimaced as a few low pops issued from the aching joints. She nodded wearily in Pazru's direction and gave him a strained smile before bending back over the low counter she was scrubbing. Pazru walked past her to the rear door panel, which opened into the private nursery. Fingers moving deftly, he punched in the access code on the side control panel. The door slid open with a faint hiss, and Pazru eagerly stepped through into the private nursery.  
  
Which was empty. The two bassinets in the center of the small room were open and had been scrubbed clean, the padding removed for cleaning. Not quite believing his eyes, Pazru walked over to the bassinet where he had last seen the child. He ran his fingers lightly over the dull gray bottom of the bassinet where the padding would have lain. "He must have gotten out somehow and hid," he thought, trying to dissuade himself from the awful truth.  
  
Pazru crouched to the floor and began to search in every nook and cranny behind the counters and trays in which the child could be hiding, but with no luck. Beginning to panic, he frantically threw open the doors of all the cabinets, which, like everything else in the room, were immaculately clean and empty. Pazru shook his head in disbelief. Had he not been present for the child's birth, Pazru would never have known that he had existed.  
  
Leaving the room in disarray, Pazru ran back into the main nursery, nearly colliding with one of the attendants. Not bothering to apologize, Pazru grasped the startled woman by the shoulders and demanded to know where the child had been taken. Large dull red eyes widened in shock, the attendant looked at him as if he were insane and motioned towards the screaming baby in the center of the nursery. Patience waning quickly, Pazru asked, between clenched teeth, about the other baby, only to receive a blank look from the frightened woman. He gave a forceful sigh, released her, and ran out to the hallway, mumbling an apology as he went.  
  
The next few hours were near hell for Pazru. He darted from room to room, looking for any staff members that may have known where Kakarot's twin had been taken. He was able to track down only a few, who unfortunately knew nothing about the child or his whereabouts. Kicking himself for not acting on his plan and taking care of the child earlier, Pazru wandered aimlessly through the winding hallways of the vast complex, miserable and on the verge of giving up his search.  
  
It was a stroke of luck that he ran across Eki, caretaker of the older, unused regions of the med-center. Normally, Pazru would have averted his eyes and just walked on, but driven by desperation, he described the baby to Eki and asked if he knew of the child's location. The greasy, scaly- skinned lizard smirked, a malicious glitter in his beady black eyes, and pointed down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. Not saying another word, he continued his rounds, brushing past Pazru, who grimaced as the man's dirty tunic grazed his hand.  
  
After Eki had disappeared around the corner, Pazru began to wipe viciously at his hand as if it was contaminated with a substance both toxic and vile. Eki had always disgusted him. The man was indifferent to his responsibilities and cold, not to mention the fact that he always seemed to be coated in a thick layer of dirt and grime. Eki had been an attendant in the med-center, but had been demoted to his current position several years back for reasons unknown to Pazru, but which he suspected were to due to patient neglect and general filthiness.  
  
Nauseated by his run-in with the repulsive, filthy caretaker, but excited nevertheless with the man's answer, Pazru headed down the dark passage. The hallway, smooth walls having been replaced by cool, slimy bricks, ended abruptly in a grime-streaked, rusty door panel. Ignoring the dirt and muck obscuring the panel, Pazru quickly keyed in his code and headed inside. The room was dark and smelled of mold and mildew. A small, dirty bassinet sat to the right of the door panel. The child lay fast asleep on the filthy padding inside. Sighing in relief, Pazru began to try and rouse the child but with no success. Noting the dark circles under the child's eyes and the dull, gaunt appearance of his skin, Pazru gently laid the child back in the bassinet and headed at near breakneck speed to the nursery to retrieve a bottle of milk and a few food bars.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Pazru stopped and leaned forward against one of the walls, trying to calm himself down. He stared fixedly at the gray stone wall in front of him, ignoring the loose strands of pale green hair that fell in his face.  
  
"Okay," he thought, "things haven't been going as smooth as I planned, but the situation isn't bad as it could be. Scleren hasn't figured out what I'm up to yet—that's a major plus—and as far I know, no one else has either. Most importantly, the kid is alive. He may have been moved to the dirtiest, most run-down section of the med-center and half-starved, but he's still alive." Pazru closed is eyes and exhaled slowly, smiling as he remembered the brief time he had had with the child earlier. He then resumed staring at the wall.  
  
"Now to figure out what needs to be done. Time is not on my side, so that scratches Bardock out—it could be weeks until he regains consciousness, if he ever does, and even then, Scleren might be right, he might not care about the other baby. So, that leaves me with finding out some way to get this kid off of Vegetasei. It shouldn't be too difficult to sneak him out of the med-center, especially now that he's been moved. No one except for Eki frequents that area." Pazru gave an involuntary shudder at the mere thought of the disgusting creature. "Therefore my best bet is to find a path through the abandoned section of the med-center to the pod landing and departure area, which should be fairly easy. Obtaining an unused pod and clearance to leave the planet will not be near as simple, though."  
  
Deep in concentration, Pazru began to nibble his lower lip. "There's just no way I can do that part by myself, I am going to need some help. Kyokou is going to be my best bet on that one; he knows the pod system better than anyone else I know of and has snuck off planet more times than can be counted." Pazru glanced to the side, lips pursing in a frown. "But he has such a big mouth! If I tell Kyokou that I'm planning to sneak a Saiyan infant off of Vegetasei everyone in the complex, alien and Saiyan alike, is going to know what I'm up to within the space of a few hours."  
  
Pazru shut his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead touched the smooth, cool wall, letting the faint vibrations from the heating and cooling systems lying behind the wall massage his aching head. Asking Kyokou for help was risky, but he knew that there was no other way of getting the child off the planet. If worse came to worse, he could always threaten to tell those in charge of Kyokou's little exploits. That is, if Kyokou agreed to help him.  
  
Stealing a pod and sending it off planet was dangerous enough. Stealing a pod and using it to sneak a Saiyan infant to another planet was a whole different story, especially when just allowing the child to live was illegal. Kyokou wasn't the brightest person on the complex, but he was smart enough to know that breaking one of Frieza's laws regarding the Saiyans compounded by breaking pod strip rules bore a penalty of death. So, it was unlikely that he would agree to Pazru's plan.  
  
Discouraged, but no less determined, Pazru pushed himself back so that only his palms rested on the wall. He began to rapidly drum his fingers against the wall, his well-manicured fingernails clicking rhythmically on the cool surface. "Maybe Kyokou doesn't have to know the whole story," he thought to himself. "I could just tell him that I have been really overworked lately and need a vacation, or something along that line. He would be more likely to agree to help me, and if someone came sniffing around about a missing Saiyan infant, he wouldn't be able to tell them a thing. That would keep him, not to mention myself, out of danger."  
  
Pazru grinned and nodded, satisfied with this idea. "Yeah, that should work just fine. All I need to do now is to find Kyokou and try to warm him up to my little idea, and then all that's left is finding a way to the pod landing and departure area from the room where the child is located."  
  
His brow furrowed and he frowned. "Oh, I almost forgot! This might take Kyokou a few days or even weeks to set up, so I need to make time to sneak out and feed the child and move him to a different room if necessary. Kami, that could become a problem if Scleren begins to wonder where I'm running off to every couple of hours." His long orange fingers began tapping against the wall again. "Well, it's risky, but I could always—"  
  
A hand dropped down onto Pazru's shoulder, breaking his concentration and making him jump in fear. "Paz, buddy, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that wall is going to talk back to you."  
  
Trying desperately to stay calm, Pazru slowly turned and found himself face- to-face with Kyokou's broad, lopsided grin. Well, nearly so; Pazru was over a head taller than the man. "Speak of the devil," he thought as he stared down at Kyokou. "What luck!" he thought. "I'll never get a chance like this again."  
  
Kyokou cocked his head to the side quizzically and waved one small, pale, flesh-colored hand in front of Pazru's face. "Vegetasei to Pazru, come in, Pazru," he said, grinning  
  
Pazru shook himself from his thoughts and smiled back at his friend. "Oh, sorry, Kyokou, I didn't hear you the first time. It's just that Scleren's been giving me a lot of extra assignments lately and I was trying to remember all the terms for his next lesson," he lied.  
  
"Hey, no problem, man. Everyone this side of the complex knows how much of a hard-ass Scleren can be." Kyokou's grin widened and he clapped Pazru on the back good-naturedly. "Tell you what, I'll buy you dinner to free you from some of those pre-test blues. Besides," he added with a teasing smile, "that should keep you from talking to any more walls."  
  
"Oh, um…that would be great, Kyokou," Pazru replied as Kyokou began to steer him down to the staff mess hall. Uncertain of how to ask Kyokou about the pod, Pazru turned and asked, "So, Kyokou, what have you been doing lately?"  
  
"Just the same old same old—the pods come in, the pods go out, you know. " A few loud squawks issued from the scouter sitting in the bulky gray helmet tucked under one of his arms, and he stopped briefly to switch off the communicator inside. Replacing the helmet back under his arm, Kyokou ran a hand through the unruly mop of brown hair on his head and resumed walking down the corridor, Pazru at his side. "Tell you what though, Paz," he continued, taking no notice of the grimace that passed over Pazru's face at the mention of his nickname, "I met this girl the other day and—"  
  
"Is this the one you were telling me about last week? The redhead with fins?" Pazru rolled his eyes, glad that Kyokou was too short and too involved in his current love interest to notice.  
  
"No, no, no, that was last week, Paz. The redhead's long gone, and besides, this girl is absolutely gorgeous! No kidding, man! You should see her! She's got these legs that never seem to end, a great ass, and these eyes, oh buddy, you have no idea! All three of her eyes are this brilliant red color, sort of like…" he scratched his head, oblivious to Pazru's total lack of interest, "…well, they're like the lights in the pod departure area. You know, that deep red color that's dark and bright all at the same time? I'm not big on the three-eyed girls, but I'll make an exception for her sake." He grunted suggestively and nudged Pazru with his elbow.  
  
"Anyway, I was in the bar down at the other end of the complex, and I saw her sitting at the table in the back so I went over and I said to her, 'Hey, what's a gorgeous babe like yourself doing in a place like this?' Then she said, 'Oh nothing, I was just waiting for a handsome stranger like yourself to join me for a beer or two.' Then I said, "Baby, anything for you." And then she said….  
  
Kyokou's voice resounded off the walls of the corridor as he continued his word-by-word recount of his encounter with the three-eyed girl. Many months of practice had taught Pazru to block out the majority of things that popped out of Kyokou's mouth without Kyokou knowing any better. Pazru gave a well placed "oh," or "is that so," or "wow" every now and then, and that seemed to satisfy Kyokou just fine.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't like the man. Kyokou was one of his best friends, and the first to show him any kindness when he had first arrived on Vegetasei. He could be very annoying at times, but his general laid-back attitude and genial nature made him a favorite among his coworkers at the pod strips and other staff members in the complex. Working at the pod strips also kept him in close contact with the Saiyans and he was in good standing with many of them.  
  
Kyokou definitely wasn't the brightest person at the complex; in fact, Pazru continually found himself questioning the man's intelligence. However, after hearing about Kyokou's many exploits off planet from the other pod strip attendants, Pazru decided that Kyokou was one of those people who was definitely smarter than they look. His big goofy grin and large, innocent blue eyes were enough to fool anyone. This was probably what had continually saved Kyokou from investigation and punishment for sneaking off of the planet.  
  
As they approached the staff mess hall the corridors became more and more crowded. A group of pod strip attendants stood deep in conversation along Pazru's side of the corridor. As he and Kyokou passed, they raised their helmets in greeting to their coworker. Without breaking stride or the endless stream of words flowing from his mouth, Kyokou nodded in their direction and raised his helmet in a similar fashion, being careful not to let the scouter inside roll out and fall to the ground. Staff members of all races and professions greeted Kyokou warmly as they passed. If he hadn't known better, Pazru would have thought that he was invisible.  
  
They turned left down another corridor, which was splashed with warm orange and yellow light that issued from the open doors of the mess hall. The noise of the crowd inside assailed Pazru's ears, almost, but not quite, blocking out Kyokou's voice as they entered. The many light panels above glowed with a soft yellow light, contrasting greatly with the harsh glaring lights of the corridors. Pazru studied the wide, low-ceilinged room and the many people clustered around the small circular tables inside. On his right, a group of med-center personnel were deep in a game of Valbonat. One of the players suddenly stood up and gave a triumphant shout. Jumping up and down, she waved the winning colored brick in the air. A collective moan rose from the rest of the players, and they dejectedly began to collect their remaining bricks from the large, oblong box in the center of the table. Pazru caught the eye of one of his coworkers, a petite young woman with pale green skin who was glaring at the winner enviously, and waved. Her features immediately softened and, blushing slightly, she gave him a shy smile and waved back with a tiny, six-fingered hand.  
  
Pazru glanced over at Kyokou, who had interrupted his story to chat with a few of his friends at the next table, and thanked his lucky stars that Kyokou hadn't noticed the girl. If he had, he would torment Pazru to no end about her. He turned away from the girl and the table, shaking his head from side to side as he remembered the last time Kyokou caught him flirting with one of the female staff members at the complex. At the time it had seemed that he had would never live it down: Kyokou was always popping up, elbowing him in the side, and asking with a twinkle in his eye what Pazru was going to name the kids. Pazru smiled and looked over at his friend, who was now chatting with one of the mess hall attendants. Kyokou could be extremely annoying at times, but Pazru knew in his heart that he meant well.  
  
Laughing, Kyokou waved goodbye to the mess hall worker, walked over to Pazru, who was staring off into space with a silly grin on his face, and slapped him on the back. Pazru jumped, shook his head slowly, and allowed Kyokou to lead him to the far side of the room. He stopped at a table where a trio of maintenance workers were sitting and began to sit down, but was stopped by Pazru, who had grabbed his arm just above the elbow and was pointing out a small table set against the wall. Kyokou gave the workers an apologetic grin and joined Pazru at the table.  
  
"Sorry, Kyokou, I'm…uh…just a little tired and I didn't feel quite up to making conversation with a bunch of strangers," Pazru lied as he glanced at the menu screen imbedded in the table before him.  
  
"Hey no problem, Paz, I understood that perfectly when I saw you talking to that wall," Kyokou said with a grin. He set his helmet on the tabletop and began to struggle with his wide-shouldered armor. Finally managing to wriggle out of the thick, light blue material, he plunked the armor on the floor beside him. "Now, what to eat," he muttered to himself as he studied the list of dishes displayed on the menu screen at his seat. He pressed his index finger to the upper right side of the screen and dragged it down slowly. The screen began to scroll down, and Kyokou looked at the new meal selections that came into view. "Hmm, never seen that one before, yuck!! Wow, that actually looks pretty good…but look at the price!"  
  
Pazru smiled at his friend's commentary of tonight's meal choices. He also scrolled through the menu, studying each dish before moving on to another. He decided on a dish native to his own planet: a large bread roll stuffed with tuber peels and small chunks of meat from a large, rodent-like animal. He set his finger on the selection box next to the meal description and waited. In a few seconds, a payment screen with a large circle in the middle came up and asked for identification by handprint. Pazru lowered his hand, palm-down, to the screen. Kyokou's hand darted across the table and grabbed his wrist.  
  
"Now you didn't think that I would go back on my word, did you?" he said with a grin. "When I say I'll buy you dinner, that's exactly what I'm going to do!" Kyokou released Pazru's wrist and placed his own hand in the center of the large circle on Pazru's screen. The circle flashed twice in confirmation and Kyokou removed his hand from the screen and leaned back in his seat.  
  
"So," he said slowly as he scrolled back through the menu and selected his meal, "I heard you had a run-in with Toma a few days ago."  
  
Pazru snorted and rolled his eyes. "You and everyone else on Vegetasei," he muttered. Kyokou removed his palm from his screen and looked up, grinning.  
  
"You can't help but be the talk of the complex after you literally run into a Saiyan and live to tell the tale, or should I say 'tail'?" Pazru grinned in spite of himself. Smile widening, Kyokou said, "Then again, knowing Toma, you probably had a better chance of survival than with most other Saiyans."  
  
Interest piqued, Pazru looked up at his companion. "What do you mean 'a better chance'?"  
  
"Well," Kyokou began, "I've known Toma—not to mention Bardock and the rest of his crew—for quite sometime, and I know that for a Saiyan, Toma is about as laid back as they come." His brow furrowed momentarily and then he continued. "I take that back. Except when it comes to Bardock, Toma is about as laid back as a Saiyan can be. So, I guess maybe your chances were as good with Toma as with any other Saiyan at that particular moment."  
  
"You're not making me feel much better, Kyokou," Pazru said amiably and chuckled. Kyokou rolled his eyes and gave him an amused grin. He smoothed out the wrinkles on the sleeves of his light-blue shirt, slumped back into his seat, and crossed his arms behind his head.  
  
"Okay, okay, I know how you feel. It was a close call any way you slice it. Think of it this way: you've managed to get out of your normal duties for the past—what—three days or so. And that has to have made getting that gash on your forehead worth it."  
  
Pazru's shoulders shook in silent laughter. He looked up at Kyokou and shook his head from side to side. "I wouldn't say that. Being confined to your quarters for three days is no fun, especially when you have important things to do that just can't wait." Pazru began to trace circles on the cool, smooth surface of the table with a long orange finger, not realizing the monumental slip-up he had just made.  
  
Kyokou, looking quite puzzled, replied, "So what are these important things that just can't wait, Paz?"  
  
Startled, Pazru looked up from his invisible drawing pad on the tabletop. Completely baffled as to what to tell Kyokou, Pazru opened his mouth to speak. He was saved from making an explanation by the menu screen, which emitted a loud buzz and flashed several times. Kyokou's screen made a similar noise.  
  
"Oh look, the food's ready." Hastily, he left the table and headed over to the large counter that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Kyokou, still looking confused, followed Pazru and began to search for his meal among the many steaming dishes that were spread out on the pristine surface of the counter. Trying to avoid any questioning Pazru quickly found his meal and carried it back to the table. Avoiding Kyokou's eyes as he sat down at the table, Pazru immediately became absorbed in slicing the large roll steaming on his plate into bite-size pieces. Eyes never leaving his friend, Kyokou slowly set into his own meal. Popping a chunk of the thick, juicy slab of meat sitting on his plate into his mouth, Kyokou looked at Pazru thoughtfully.  
  
"So," he muttered around the piece of meat in his mouth, "what do you have to do that is so important?" Fork halfway to his mouth, Pazru stiffened and looked up hesitantly into Kyokou's troubled deep blue eyes. He stuffed the bit of food into his mouth and looked out towards the other tables. He had no clue whatsoever how he should answer Kyokou's question. Just then, fate intervened and the petite, green-skinned woman from the Valbonat table walked past them towards the food counter. As she passed, she turned back and smiled coquettishly at Pazru. Pazru stopped chewing and stared wide- eyed at the girl, who, blushing furiously, had turned away and gone to pick up her meal. He began chewing again so as not to alert Kyokou and looked at the pretty young woman thoughtfully. All of a sudden he knew exactly what to say.  
  
Swallowing noisily he cleared his throat and began to speak as nonchalantly as he could. "Well, I've got to tell you, Kyokou, since the day we met a lot of your 'skills' have rubbed off on me."  
  
Grin returning, Kyokou stuffed another large chunk of meat into his mouth and replied, "Really, and which 'skills' of mine have you picked up?"  
  
"Your way with the ladies, for example," Pazru said, smiling mischievously.  
  
Curiosity aroused, Kyokou set his fork and knife on his plate and leaned forward. "Yeah, and…."  
  
"Well, to make a long story short, I've picked up my own little…," Pazru searched for a word that Kyokou would use, "…fox."  
  
Kyokou's grin widened and, meal forgotten for the moment, leaned forward even further. "Yeah, yeah, so tell me about this little 'fox' you found," he said with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
Pazru leaned back in his seat and idly picked at the half-eaten bread roll with his fork, trying to buy some time to think. He glanced back over at the girl, who had stopped on her way back to her table to talk to two other women. He looked her up and down, taking in the silky black mass of her hair, her large, gentle green eyes, her small, yet curvaceous body, and her long, shapely legs. He then looked back at Kyokou, who was completely absorbed in Pazru's yet untold story.  
  
Smiling, Pazru began, "Let me tell you, she is very easy on the eyes." Kyokou, mouth open slightly, nodded. "This girl has a body that could just make you thank Kami for women. Legs to the sky, curves to no end, a….," he glanced back over at the girl, "cute little nose, eyes so deep you could get lost for weeks in them, and the smoothest, softest, most perfect skin that could make you just weep for joy."  
  
Kyokou was completely under his spell now. He stared at Pazru, slack- jawed, and nodded at each word that issued from his lips. Pazru smiled and stuffed another bite of the bread roll into his mouth. He chewed slowly, enjoying the utter silence that was coming from the other side of the table.  
  
"I tell you, Kyokou, if you ever saw this girl you probably would go straight out of your mind." Kyokou nodded and his eyes widened, wanting to know more.  
  
"So how did you and this girl meet?" Kyokou managed to blurt out as Pazru picked up another chunk of food and stuffed it into his mouth.  
  
"Oh…," he continued hesitantly, "…you remember when I went over to Frieza #32 with Scleren a few months ago?" Kyokou nodded eagerly and Pazru continued. "She was…ah…working at the base there, and was running an errand at the time when…, " Pazru looked away, trying to think of a convincing situation. He noticed one of the pod attendants limping to a table across the room. Eying the large bandage wrapped around the man's ankle, he said, "…all of a sudden she tripped on one of those squishy little creatures that literally cover the planet and just never seem to go away —you know what I'm talking about, right?" Another rapt nod from across the table. "Anyway, she sprained her ankle, and—lucky me—I just happened to be in the vicinity and I bandaged her lovely little ankle. Well of course she couldn't very well finish her task when she couldn't even walk so I called over one of her coworkers and had him take care of it."  
  
Pazru looked up at Kyokou, who was staring fixedly at him and nodding so much that it was a wonder that his head hadn't fallen off yet. Pazru smiled and continued, "You should have seen it, buddy, tears welled up in those big beautiful green eyes of hers and she said 'I just don't know what I would have done had you not been there to rescue me.' Then I said, 'It's all part of the job, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?' She batted her eyes at me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and asked me to take her to her quarters to 'rest' as she said it. So I did that and then….well, let me just say we both got a 'rest,' several 'rests' at that." Pazru smiled roguishly, happy with this spicy little ending and his increasing skill at lying. He was lucky that Kyokou didn't know—or rather, didn't remember—how shy he was around women. Pazru knew it would take at least a million years before he ever worked up the courage to pull off a little stunt similar to what he had just told Kyokou.  
  
Kyokou stared blankly at him, a trailer of drool running down his chin. He suddenly shook himself awake, playfully punched Pazru in the shoulder, and said, "You dog, you, why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Unsure of what to say, Pazru just shrugged his shoulders and finished off the rest of the bread roll. Kyokou tilted his head back and laughed loudly, drawing a few stares from the occupants of a nearby table. "I just can't believe that you never told me about this, Paz!" he shouted, drawing even more stares.  
  
Pazru leaned forward and gestured for Kyokou to quiet down. Glancing around the room to make sure that no one was paying attention to them, Pazru whispered conspiratorially, "That's where you come in, Kyokou. You see, ever since those few blissful weeks on #32, I've been trying to find a way to get back to her." He looked Kyokou straight in the eye to make sure that his words were sinking in and found his friend completely and hopelessly taken in by his little ploy.  
  
A little hesitantly, Pazru said, "I know you have expertise in this area—sneaking off Vegetasei I mean—and I was wondering if you would…um—"  
  
"—Help you get back to your little fox? Well, it will be difficult but…" Pazru bit his lip, hoping that Kyokou would agree to help him. "I guess that I can manage to find you a way off of the planet—if it's for love and everything."  
  
"Yes, I was hoping you would say just that!" Pazru nearly shouted as he stood up, one finger raised triumphantly above his head. This time it was Kyokou who gestured for him to be quiet.  
  
"I think I can probably get you a pod to #32 in about, let's say, oh, two or three months."  
  
Pazru's heart sunk at the mention of the time frame. Forgetting all self- control for the moment, Pazru grabbed Kyokou by the shoulders, startling the man, and said, "No, it has to be now and it can't be to Frieza #32!"  
  
A little miffed, Kyokou gulped and pushed Pazru's hands off of his shoulders. "What's the big deal, Paz, you're not that hard up that you can't wait a couple months to see this girl, are you? Because in the meantime I could find you a cute little thing to take your mind off of this other girl, your 'fox.' And why not #32, I thought that's where she's located?"  
  
Pazru, mouth agape, stared at his friend. He began to stammer out bits and phrases of words, causing Kyokou to stare at him as if he was crazy. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally managed to say, "We both decided to keep our love a secret so that neither of us would get into trouble. She suggested that we meet on a different planet, one that is, for the most part, deserted."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I get that, but why now?"  
  
"Well, you see, within the next five or six weeks, she's going to be transferred to another planet—she doesn't know which one—and we might not be able to contact each other ever again. So," Pazru continued, kicking himself for making up this lame excuse, "it has to be within this month."  
  
Kyokou stared at him thoughtfully. Deep in thought, he turned away from Pazru and looked out over the now emptying mess hall. He nervously began to drum his fingers on the blue-tinted faceplate of his helmet, the lens of the scouter inside flashing bright green as the overhead lights struck it. Kyokou leaned over and began to massage his face with his other hand. Pazru anxiously chewed on his lower lip, awaiting Kyokou's decision with dread. His explanation had been really weak, and he knew it all too well. He just hoped that Kyokou didn't see through it.  
  
After what seemed like hours, Kyokou finally sat up and turned. He nodded wearily and gave Pazru a weak smile. "If it's for love, I think that I can manage to find you an unused pod in a couple of weeks or so." Pazru's eyes brightened and he opened his mouth to thank Kyokou, but was cut short. "But your selection of destinations is going to be limited then—it's near impossible to manipulate the flight logs in such a short amount of time—so you should contact this girl of yours and find a new get-away. I'll find you a list of available destinations and let the two of you choose from there."  
  
Pazru felt like jumping for joy and dancing around on the tabletop. Unknowingly, Kyokou had totally exceeded Pazru's expectations of him. Pazru knew that he had to get the Saiyan child off of the planet, but he had never thought to where he would send the kid. Now all he had to do was scan the list of destinations and check for the most hospitable planet. Pazru smiled in elation and, stammering thanks, stood up to clasp his friend in an embrace.  
  
All frivolity suddenly disappeared from Kyokou's face and he gripped Pazru's shoulder tightly, forcing him back into his seat. "This is very important for my sake as well as yours, Pazru." Pazru blinked in surprise at Kyokou's use of his full name. Kyokou continued. "I may be able to find a free pod within a few hours, so you need to be ready at all times. If you're not ready, I'll have to let the pod go. Also, a lot of questions can pop up if certain authorities find out about your little escapade and the role I played in it, and their method of questioning can be quite painful. So I advise that you keep absolutely silent about this, for your sake as well as mine. Do you understand me, Pazru?" Amazed by Kyokou's sudden change in demeanor, Pazru nodded dumbly.  
  
Kyokou's face suddenly softened and was split by a wide grin. He held out one of his hands and Pazru clasped it. "For love," Kyokou said and pumped his hand.  
  
"For love," Pazru replied, stunned that his luck was finally beginning to turn for the better. 


	6. Part 1 Chap6

1 Chapter 6  
  
Pazru waited quietly in his quarters for Kyokou to walk around the corner and out of sight before he snuck quietly out into the corridor. Turning around frequently to make sure that he was not seen, he headed quickly towards the abandoned section of the complex. It had been nearly six hours since he had fed the child last and Pazru was certain that he would be hungry again. For nearly the tenth time since he and Kyokou had left the mess hall, Pazru reached down into his tunic pocket to make sure that the ten food bars he had purchased were still there. His fingers brushed over the grainy, slightly oily surface of the little rectangular masses and, satisfied, he pulled his hand from his pocket and absentmindedly wiped it off on the side of his tunic. He had opted not to bring any bottles with him this time so as not to attract undue attention to himself from the attendants working in the nursery. Pazru shivered as he imagined Scleren's reaction to being told that his favorite student had been sneaking food and other supplies from the nursery. As long as he was careful, Scleren wouldn't have the slightest clue what he was planning to do.  
  
Pazru slowed as he approached a turn and quickly glanced around the corner to make sure that no one was in the hallway before continuing on his way. He repeated the same process each corner he came to; the child's as well as his safety depended on it. Voices echoed from a corridor a little ways ahead and Pazru quickly pressed himself up against the nearest door panel, hoping that he wouldn't be seen. The voices faded away into the distance and Pazru resumed his path.  
  
He still couldn't quite believe how easily Kyokou had agreed to help him. After the rotten run of luck he had had earlier today, he had expected Kyokou to laugh at his request as if it were some absurd sort of joke. The lie about the girl on Frieza #32 had definitely been the kicker—if it meant that he could help Pazru get some action, Kyokou would probably waltz around naked in front of King Vegeta himself. He shook his head and chuckled quietly as he imagined the expression on the king's face. No matter how annoying Kyokou could be, he was always there for his friends when they needed him. Pazru promised himself that if everything worked out okay he would buy Kyokou dinner for the rest of his life.  
  
The corridors grew dimmer and narrower as he entered the deserted regions of the complex. Without any difficulty whatsoever, Pazru navigated his way back to the grime-streaked door panel, trying not to touch the cold, lumpy brick walls coated with green-gray slime. He could hear the child's petulant cries coming from inside and he quickly entered the room, making sure that no one had seen him. The panel hissed shut behind him, and Pazru turned his attention to the Saiyan infant, who was lying on his back wailing. The tall, orange-skinned young man pushed the small, glowing button on the side of the bassinet. Hearing the hum of the lid rising, the child gave an excited growl, rolled over onto his hands and knees, and eagerly scampered over to the smiling young man who stood over him. Tears still drying on his face, the infant grabbed handfuls of Pazru's tunic in his little fists and pulled himself into a standing position. His tiny nostrils widened as they caught the scent of the food bars wafting from Pazru's pocket and he gave an impatient cry.  
  
Pleased with the child's reaction to his presence, Pazru pulled open the pocket bearing the food bars. The infant eagerly reached inside and fished out one of the bars. He paused and peered up into Pazru's face for a moment before stuffing it into his mouth greedily. Tail waving happily behind him, the child plopped onto his rear and concentrated on chewing and swallowing the small, greasy slab before reaching for another. Pazru kneeled next to the bassinet and watched the tiny Saiyan eat with wonder. With one long-fingered hand, he gently pushed the child's soft bangs off of his forehead. The child stiffened momentarily and regarded him suspiciously with one large black eye. Satisfied that the tall, green- haired man smiling pleasantly at him didn't want to do him any harm, the child shrugged his shoulders and gave a contented grunt from behind the mass of food in his mouth. He swallowed noisily, pushed himself onto his feet, tail flung out wide for balance, and reached for the pocket of Pazru's tunic. The child gave a startled cry when he realized that his food was now out of reach below the bassinet. Pazru chuckled, reached into his pocket, and pulled out another food bar. The infant immediately leaned forward and snatched it from his fingers.  
  
It was then that Pazru noticed the horrible smell and the large smears of fecal matter, among other unidentifiable substances, covering the infant's body. The padding in the bassinet was stained dark and reeked of urine and feces. Pazru's nose wrinkled in revulsion as he stared at the mess and he glanced around the room, searching for a sink or tub of some sort. A large industrial sink was set against the wall on the far side of the room and Pazru rose to his feet and walked over to it. Like the rest of the small room, the sink was caked with grime and unidentifiable muck. Pazru grimaced and turned the handle of the faucet, which gave a loud screech in protest. No water came out of the spigot, and Pazru feared for a moment that it had been shut off from this area of the complex. The pipes behind the wall suddenly creaked and a stream of cool, clean water began to pour from the spigot. Pazru sighed in relief and held his hand underneath the faucet until he felt the water grow warm. Finding a small brush and a half- empty bottle of soap on the counter near the sink, he rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and began to diligently scrub away the dirt. As thick as it was, the years of acquired muck and grime coating the sink washed away easily, revealing the dull, scratched metal beneath. Finally satisfied that it was clean, Pazru found a plug and stopped up the sink. As it filled, he began to search the cupboards for towels. As luck would have it, he found a whole stack of fairly clean, undamaged towels along with a large ratty sponge in the back of the first cupboard he opened. He grabbed one of the faded gray towels, shook it furiously to free it of dust, and set it and the sponge next to the sink, which was now nearly half-full. He shut off the faucet, which gave another rusty scream of protest and turned to get the child.  
  
The bassinet was empty. "Oh please not again," Pazru thought with some trepidation as he began to scan the room for the child. There was a small tug on his left trouser leg. Pazru looked down to find the Saiyan infant sitting at his feet smiling mischievously. The child reached upwards with grasping fingers and whined in hunger. "That's the last time I ever take my eyes off of you," Pazru said with a smile as he reached down and lifted the filthy infant up into the air, holding him at arms-length. He turned and gently lowered the infant into the sink. The child's lower lip immediately began to shake as he was lowered into this strange rippling substance and he clutched Pazru's arms tightly. Pazru kept his hands on the child for reassurance and let him become accustomed to the water, which nearly came up to his armpits. The child calmed down almost immediately and Pazru removed one of his hands from the water and went to grab the soap.  
  
All of a sudden, the tiny Saiyan gave an angry shriek and bit deeply into Pazru's other arm. The young man cried out in pain and looked down at the perturbed infant, who had managed, using Pazru's arm for support, to rise to his feet. He scowled at Pazru and reached upwards, growling fiercely. "What do you…oh, I see," Pazru mumbled to himself. He pulled another food bar from his pocket and handed it to the child, who greedily took it from him and sat back down in the water with a small splash.  
  
Pazru sighed resignedly, rubbed at his injured arm, and grabbed the bottle of soap sitting nearby on the counter. He squirted a generous amount of the purple gel onto the child's head and began to massage it through his hair. Oblivious to the mass of bubbles forming on top of his head, the child continued to devour the now soaked food bar. Pazru cupped one hand over the infant's forehead to shield his eyes and began to scoop water onto the child's head to wash away the soapsuds. Sighing in disgust as he watched the dirty froth flow into the sink, Pazru ran his hands through the spiky mass of hair to squeegee any excess dirt and water from his scalp.  
  
Grabbing the sponge from the counter, he now concentrated on cleaning the child's body. He started with the infant's neck and moved down to his back, being careful not to accidentally pull or pinch the child's tail in the process. He then cupped the sponge around the base of the tail and moved slowly upwards towards the tip, scrubbing the soft brown fur as gently as possible. The child growled as he felt his tail being handled but made no move to snap at Pazru again. The young man, now up to his elbows in frothy soapsuds, moved the sponge to the front of the child's body and began to wipe the smears of waste and dirt from his belly.  
  
Having finished the food bar sometime ago, the child giggled as the soft sponge tickled his belly and began to slap at the water with his hands, sending a great deal of warm water and a flurry of soap bubbles into the air. Pazru laughed quietly as he watched one of the pearly bubbles alight on the child's nose. The tiny Saiyan crowed in delight and began to eagerly throw masses of bubbles into the air, trying to catch them with his chubby little hands. A dense cloud of bubbles flew in his direction and Pazru blew them back towards the infant, who giggled and tried to ward the bubbles away from his face. Humming to himself quietly, Pazru gently began to scrub the child's arms, stopping every now and then to tickle his belly. He used a small corner of the sponge to wipe the dirt away from the child's face and from behind each of his ears. Pazru then slid one hand beneath the child and lifted him slightly so as to be able to reach the child's legs, buttocks, and groin, which were unsurprisingly the filthiest areas of his body.  
  
Pazru gave the child a good look over to make sure he was clean, becoming soaked himself in the process, and lifted the child from the water and onto the towel. The infant cried out at being separated from this strange new plaything and was given a food bar in compensation. Pazru gently toweled the child dry, again being careful not to harm the child's tail. He rubbed the towel briskly over the child's head, receiving a series of muffled giggles for his efforts, and then ran his fingers through the thick mass of hair to untangle any knots that had formed there. Pazru then wrapped the towel around the child's head and body, leaving his face and hands uncovered so that he could still eat.  
  
Cooing infant cradled comfortably in his arms, Pazru headed back to the bassinet and groaned when he saw the soiled bedding. He carefully set the infant on the floor beside the bassinet, and began to detach the filthy padding from the smooth metal pan beneath. Turning his to the side slightly to avoid the hideous odors emanating from the heavy lining, he stuffed the padding into a small incinerator that was situated in the wall opposite the door panel and started the machine. Pazru, not noticing that the child had managed to worm his way out of the soft warm towel wrapped around him, then began to search the cupboards for new padding but was only able to come up with a few ratty, mildewed blankets. Sighing, he tossed the blankets in the now empty incinerator and punched in the sequence codes again. The blankets went up in flames behind the clear glass panel and the child, who had been scurrying across the floor after Pazru, paused to watch the tongues of flame consume the tattered blankets. Tail waving slowly back and forth in the air behind him, he cocked his head to the side and stared with wonder at the raging fire behind the glass.  
  
Pazru turned and, making sure not to step on the infant, walked over to the cabinet near the sink and pulled out the remaining three towels. Yawning, he shook the dust out of each and laid them out in the bassinet, knowing that the child would rearrange them as he saw fit. Plucking the child from the floor in front of the incinerator, Pazru gently set him down in the bassinet and let him fish another food bar from his tunic pocket. He then kneeled on the ground next to the bassinet and let the child finish off the remaining five bars.  
  
The Saiyan infant swallowed the last bite of the last food bar, gave a loud yawn, and curled into a little ball in the center of the bassinet, twisting the dull gray towels into a little nest around him. Pazru yawned in response and draped an end of one of the soft towels over his tiny body. The child gave a contented sigh and slowly closed his eyes. Brushing an errant strand of hair from the sleeping child's face, Pazru smiled, pressed the small glowing button on the side of the bassinet, and made sure the lid closed securely around the sleeping infant. He turned to the small computer that was mounted to the floor near the bassinet and made sure that the temperature, airflow, and humidity inside the bassinet were suitable for the infant.  
  
Yawning once more, Pazru slowly stood up and stretched. Pulling off his soggy, dirt smeared tunic as he walked, he began to head towards the door panel but tripped over the child's wet discarded towel that lay on floor near the door panel. Groaning wearily, Pazru snatched it from the ground and hung it up to dry from an old rack that hung above the sink. He then proceeded to the door panel, checked the bassinet once more to make sure that the lid was secure, and finally left the dimly lit room in search of his own quarters and bed.  
  
* * *  
  
Noticing Scleren's icy blue eyes turned in his direction, Pazru stifled a yawn with one tightly gloved hand and returned to the task at hand: cleaning and sterilizing each and every bottle, instrument, and machine in the main delivery room. Pazru reached over and dipped the rag he had been using into the small brown bucket sitting on the counter to his right, blinking back tears as the sharp, biting fumes of the cleaning solution assailed his nose. As he idly swished the rag around inside the bucket the murky purple liquid sloshed back and forth, threatening to spill over the sides.  
  
Pazru sighed wearily as he stared at his reflection wavering in the cloudy liquid. His face was haggard; large amber eyes dim and ringed with dark orangey-brown circles that contrasted sharply with the pale gaunt flesh stretching beneath them. "Forget torture and execution, I'm going to die just trying to take care of this kid along with all of my other duties," he thought and groaned as he studied his worn features. He had had little sleep during the past two and half weeks, choosing to spend the time caring for the child and finalizing the last few bits and pieces of his plan. His studies had slipped in the process, and now he was being punished for it. Normally punishment for forgetting to complete an assignment—a rare occurrence for Pazru—involved only a harsh reprimand from Scleren and maybe a few extra duties to perform. Somehow, though, Scleren had gotten wind of Pazru's appearance in the mess hall with Kyokou and had consequently added even more tasks as punishment for deliberately disobeying his orders.  
  
Pazru sighed audibly as he ran over the long list of tasks in his head yet again. After he had finished in the delivery room he was to head over to the nursery, clean and sterilize every piece of equipment there, and give Kakarot—who apparently had been considerably cranky as of late—a bath. Then, he was to go to the regen tank room and do whatever Plenthor and Malacca asked. After that was over he would be finished with all of his chores and would be free to go back to his quarters and tackle the mountain of assignments—both old and new—waiting for him there. Considering that he would still have to make time to sneak off and feed the nameless Saiyan infant hidden in the bowels of the complex, Pazru figured that he probably would not be getting a decent night's sleep for quite a while.  
  
Scleren, who was seated across the room at the large computer panel entering various bits of data, cleared his throat warningly when he noticed his young student staring vacantly into the small container of cleaning solution. Pazru awoke with a start, nearly knocking the bucket and a large cluster of bottles drying nearby to the floor. Looking sheepish, he mumbled an apology, squeezed the excess fluid from the rag, ignoring the throbbing joints in his hands and wrists, and began to vigorously scrub the outside of the large flask that sat on the cloth-draped tray in front of him. Scleren turned back to the flashing screen before him and returned to his work, shaking his head and smiling tenderly as he did so.  
  
Scleren's smile pierced Pazru's heart like an arrow, and the young man desperately tried to force back the wave of guilt that washed over him. He felt that over these past few weeks he had somehow turned into a completely different person, one whom he was not particularly proud of. It seemed that all he did now was lie: to Scleren, the man who was almost like a father to him; to Plenthor and Malacca; even to Kyokou, his best friend. And the list went on from there; Pazru had difficulty trying to recall who he hadn't lied to in the complex since this business with the Saiyan infant had cropped up. Yet, if given the chance to live this past week over again, Pazru knew without a doubt that he would have made the same choices. The child's fate was important to him, so important that it ranked far above anything and/or anyone else, including himself, and he would not have had it any other way.  
  
He lifted the flask and slowly turned it around in front of his eyes to check for any spots or stains that he had missed. His reflection wavered on the smooth, clean surface and he picked up the cloth lying in the tray and began to wipe away the filmy soapsuds on the outside of the flask. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't become some sort of monster. He was still good old Pazru, with an emphasis on the "good." The corners of his mouth turned up in a weak smile. "Lack of sleep, that's all that's wrong with me," he thought. "When I'm this tired everything seems to be going poorly." He knew in his heart that he was doing the right thing. No child, Saiyan or otherwise, should have to die for any reason, and Lord Frieza had no right to demand such a sacrifice.  
  
He took a step back and pulled the sterilizing drawer out from the counter. He upended the clean flask, secured it to the rack submerged deep inside, and slowly closed the drawer, being careful not to let any of the incandescent orange fluid inside slosh out onto the floor. Pazru then returned his attention to the hundreds of multi-colored bottles of all shapes and sizes that covered the broad countertop in front of him. Sighing, he picked up a small egg-shaped dish and wearily picked up his cleaning rag.  
  
Scleren frowned as he watched his student work diligently at the tasks he had set him to. He didn't like punishing Pazru like this, especially when he looked so ill, but Pazru had to learn how to follow orders. He had received quite a blow on the head from Toma a few weeks back, and from the looks of him it didn't appear that he had quite recovered from it yet. Scleren's brow furrowed as he studied the pale orange scar stretching across the left side of Pazru's forehead, just above the eyebrow. He hoped with all his heart that there wasn't something else, something more serious, that was happening to Pazru besides the concussion. The last time he had examined him the boy had seemed a little dazed but healthy in general; however, the dark circles that had appeared so suddenly beneath Pazru's eyes troubled him.  
  
Pazru stood up and placed the clean dish in the sterilizing drawer. The bright light coming from the large lamp standing in the corner behind him shone through his tunic as he stood. "He's been losing too much weight," Scleren thought concernedly. He slowly began to tap his lower lip in consternation with one gnarled blue finger. He shrugged resignedly. "Well at least he's forgotten the whole business about the Saiyan infant, from the looks of him he certainly doesn't need any more stress placed on him." Feeling Scleren's gaze, Pazru looked up and gave him a repentant smile, but the smile did nothing to improve his gaunt features.  
  
Scleren sighed, returned the smile, and turned back to the data he was punching into the computer, looking to the pile of inventory sheets stacked in his lap every now and then to make sure that he was entering the correct numbers. He enjoyed most aspects of his job. Inventory was not one of them. He was a doctor, and a damned good one at that; he shouldn't have to waste his precious time poring through mundane lists of supplies that sometimes took up hundreds of pages. He growled quietly in frustration, flipped the page, and began to enter the next long list of numbers into the database, his fingers moving rapidly over the keys embedded in the console.  
  
Policy was policy, though. He was wise enough to realize what the consequences would be if he opted not to perform this task. "Maybe Pazru can…," Scleren glanced hopefully up at the young man, who was carefully removing glassware from the sterilizing drawer and suspending them on the drying racks hanging on the wall beside him. "No, no. The boy has enough on his plate as it is. Just remember, you only have to do this once a month, no more no less. " He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and flipped to the next page, letting his eyes scroll through the list. They stopped three-quarters of the way down at the listing for Day 247, Year 987 Vegetasei—almost three weeks ago. If the numbers were correct, the nursery had come up short for several items—blankets, bassinet padding, towels, bottles, washcloths, and teething rings—that day, a nearly impossible occurrence; Scleren carefully monitored his domain of the med- center and always conducted careful background checks on all of his staff members. After the Eki incident five years ago it had been in his patients'—as well as his own—best interests to do so.  
  
Scleren rubbed at his eyes with one deeply lined palm and looked back down at the numbers recorded on the bottom half of the page. It had to be a mistake. Only his workers were allowed in the nursery, the computerized locking panels assured that, so the entries on the page must be in error. "When I find out who screwed this up I'll box their ears," he thought crossly. He scanned the rest of that day's inventory as well as those for the following week. He carefully went through each of the words and numbers recorded onto the crisp white sheets and blinked a few times to make sure that what he was seeing was really there. Swallowing nervously, he went through the rest of the inventory up to the current date. There was no mistaking it; someone had been stealing from the nursery supply room.  
  
Massaging his brow in mild distress, Scleren set the stack of inventory papers aside and leaned back in his seat. "How is it possible?" he thought. "As much as I want to not believe it, this has to be the work of one of my staff members, they're the only ones who would have access to the supply room in the nursery."  
  
"Damn." He hunched over and rested his forehead on his steepled fingers. Pazru looked up from the small green-tinted bottle he was washing, a questioning look in his eyes.  
  
"Something wrong, Scleren?" he asked concernedly. A little hesitantly he added, "Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"No, Pazru, it's nothing," Scleren replied after a short pause. He glanced up at the young man and smiled warmly. "Besides, do you really want to have any more things to do?" Pazru looked down at the glassware scattered across the counter's surface, smiled, and shook his head slowly from side to side. "That's what I thought." Scleren's hands moved to the console and closed the inventory report. The screen dimmed and the system gave once last soft bloop before shutting down completely. He rose slowly from his seat and groaned, his hands going immediately to the small of his back. "Pazru, I'm going down to the nursery for a bit." Just as he was stepping out of the room he added with a warning smile, "Don't get the idea that you can slack off while I'm gone. I expect to see all of that glassware sparkling clean on the drying rack when I get back." Pazru nodded in compliance and began to scrub even more vigorously.  
  
* * *  
  
Scleren's first stop was the nursery. Seemingly unaffected by Kakarot's piercing cries, he strode determinedly back to the private nursery, where the supply room was located. The attendant on duty was reclining in a small chair situated across from the door panel, his arms crossed behind his head and his feet setting on top of one of the counters. At his supervisor's entrance he hastily stood up, managing to fall out of the chair in the process, and gave Scleren a cordial—if not strained—greeting. He began to busy himself about the small room, one fearful eye riveted on the grim-faced doctor.  
  
Scleren forced a warm smile and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Hello there." The attendant tensed noticeably and turned, crimson eyes wide with fear and an apprehensive smile plastered on his face. Scleren continued, "You haven't seen anything strange going on in here lately, have you?" The man shook his head slowly and gulped. Seeing the attendant's discomfort, Scleren gave him a reassuring smile. "I apologize for frightening you like that. What I meant to say was: Have you seen anybody without nursery clearance entering the supply room?" The attendant shook his head again, not looking the least bit reassured.  
  
"I was afraid you would say that." The doctor clapped the alarmed young man on the back and strode over to the supply cabinet. After the narrow door panel slid open he stepped inside the small room and scanned the long shelves lining each of the walls, making a mental count of the items that his lists indicated were being taken. He sighed. There was no mistake in the paperwork; someone was definitely stealing from the nursery's supply room. He left the room and walked back over to the attendant, who was refolding all of the towels in the cabinet near the small tub in the far corner of the room.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt your duties," he said with just a hint of sarcasm, "but could you go and bring back one of the computer technicians for me?" The attendant nodded crisply in assent, dropped the towel he was folding, and darted out of the door.  
  
He returned quickly, panting heavily, a thin film of sweat covering his brow. He was alone. "Th-they say…palace…something going on…all gone," he panted. Scleren, his face a mask of dismay and confusion rose from his seat and walked over to the young man, who was leaning against one of the walls, sweat pouring off of his body and dripping onto the smooth, clean floor.  
  
"What's going on?" the doctor asked skeptically. The exhausted attendant took a deep breath to steady himself and forced himself to speak as slowly and clearly as possible.  
  
"They. Can't. Come."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Palace."  
  
Looking exasperated, Scleren waved his hands dismissively in the air and snapped, "Yes, yes, yes. You mentioned the palace earlier. What's going on there that's so important that the control room can't spare one computer technician?"  
  
"King Vegeta…is going to…visit Lord Frieza…he wants…son back," the attendant managed to utter. Scleren gave another impatient wave of his arms and the young man continued, "He has gathered many…warriors…needs lots of pods…techni—"  
  
"And he needs the technicians to program the coordinates of Lord Frieza's ship into the pods." Scleren sighed. "That's alright, I understand now." He gestured towards the attendant who was shivering now that the sweat covering his body was beginning to dry. "I want you to go back to the control room and request that a computer technician be sent here as soon as it is possible. I want a list of every person who has entered the supply room during this past month. Can you remember that?"  
  
The young man, eyes widening in numb shock, nodded and stumbled in the direction of the door. Scleren, face softening, grabbed his arm gently and led him to a chair.  
  
"Rest first. I'm guessing that there won't be any technicians available for at least two or three hours, so there is no need for you to rush back to the control room right now." The attendant looked gratefully up at Scleren and slumped down in the chair in relief, exhaling noisily as he did so. The old doctor patted his shoulder tenderly and exited the private nursery, stopping momentarily in the main room to watch Kakarot crawl and totter about in his bassinet before leaving.  
  
Scleren walked briskly towards the regeneration tank room, his footfalls echoing in the silent halls of the med center. This was big. It was common knowledge that Frieza kept the young prince nearby, as insurance against a Saiyan uprising and also because the boy was extremely powerful. Scleren had even heard tell that Prince Vegeta had the potential to become the first Super Saiyan in over a thousand years (he was fairly certain that Frieza intended to do away with the five-year-old Saiyan before he had a chance to attain the legendary power, though). That the king himself, in the company of the best of the first-class Saiyan warriors, was going to Frieza unannounced to take back his son meant nothing less than war itself. Scleren turned down a wide, brightly lit corridor and rubbed at his temple, troubled. He, all of the people in the complex, the Saiyans, and every other living thing on Vegetasei were soon going to be in for some very hard times.  
  
* * *  
  
Plenthor sighed as he stared up at Bardock's still form. He had spent nearly three weeks in the regeneration tank with no sign of regaining consciousness. The Saiyan's brainwaves had not reverted back to normal, and it was this that concerned Plenthor most; however, after comparing the intensity of Bardock's brainwaves over a spread of five days, the doctor had been able to discern a distinctive pattern, which he believed might be the key to reviving Bardock. Every few hours, there was a sharp spike in the Saiyan's brainwaves. Also interesting was that whenever one of these spikes occurred Bardock's heart and respiratory rates showed a considerable increase nearing that of a normal, waking reading. It was possible that one of those spikes would awaken him; however Plenthor had little way of knowing when and if this would occur. With a little bit more study, Plenthor believed that he could find a way of manipulating Bardock's brainwaves to spike in hopes of "shocking" the Saiyan awake. Plenthor's lips thinned as he pressed them together in a grim smile. "It's risky, but I can't let him just waste away in there," he thought.  
  
At the hiss of the door panel opening, Plenthor turned from the regen tank in the center of the room, looking tense. When he saw it was Scleren he relaxed and greeted his fellow doctor warmly, if not a trifle unenthusiastically. Malacca gave Scleren a quick nod in welcome and returned to the computer panel he was hunched over. Scleren joined Plenthor by the tank, glanced quickly at the figure floating inside, and clucked sympathetically.  
  
"Bardock. What will he get into next?" he mumbled.  
  
"Nothing, if he never manages to pull out of this," Plenthor replied grimly. Scleren turned to the other man, one blue-white eyebrow rising ever so slightly in interest.  
  
"Really. He seems to be in good physical condition…is there some mental disturbance?"  
  
Plenthor nodded slowly, eyes never leaving the still form of his patient.  
  
"That must have been some battle."  
  
"You'd be surprised," he replied curtly, a subtle way of telling Scleren to drop the subject.  
  
"I saw Toma bringing him in," Scleren remarked, ignoring the warning tone in the other doctor's voice. "He clipped Pazru a good blow to the head and nearly got me t—"  
  
"Scleren, do you have a reason for being here?" Plenthor snapped. His face immediately softened and he turned towards Scleren, placing a hand on the other man's arm. "I apologize for my harsh words, old friend. I'm very concerned about Bardock, that's all."  
  
"He sustained serious damage to his mind then?" Scleren asked, unruffled by Plenthor's harsh words.  
  
"Unusual is a better term for the injury Bardock suffered." Scleren's eyebrows rose, silently asking the other doctor to continue. "I have no clue as to how to treat him other than to keep him in the regen tank in hopes that he may awake," he said, purposely neglecting to mention his discovery about the brainwave spikes and his plans to revive the Saiyan. What he was planning on doing was very unorthodox, so the less Scleren and Malacca knew, the better.  
  
"And if that doesn't happen?" Plenthor's lips pressed tightly together and he looked away.  
  
"So what brings you here, Scleren?" he asked with a false cheeriness, changing the subject. The other man sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, first lifting his mane of blue-white hair—loose from the tight topknot worn only when he was on call—out of the way.  
  
"Nothing pleasant, I'm sorry to say." This time it was Plenthor's turn to raise a questioning eyebrow. "Have you completed this month's supply inventory report yet, Plenthor?"  
  
"Yes, I just submitted it an hour ago," his eyes narrowed in confusion, "why?"  
  
"Did you notice anything unusual?"  
  
"No." Scleren exhaled noisily and shut his eyes tightly, trying not to believe that it was one of his own who was raiding the supply cabinet. Plenthor, one hand straying to tug at one of his pointed ears, began to ask him what he was talking about, but Scleren cut him off.  
  
"Someone has been stealing from the supply room in the nursery."  
  
"Oh I see," Plenthor said quietly. "You afraid that the thief is part of your own staff?"  
  
"I'm not afraid, I know that one of my staff members is responsible." Scleren's voice was tired and dull. "Who else would have the access codes to the nursery?" The other doctor nodded respectfully and clasped his hands behind his back.  
  
"Any clue as to whom?"  
  
"No. I'm have requested that a technician be sent to the nursery at once to search through the locking panel records and bring up a list of everyone who has entered the supply room in the past month."  
  
Plenthor nodded once in agreement. "You hoping to catch the thief through their access code? A good plan, but what if the thief isn't a member of your staff but has in their possession one of your staff member's access codes? What then, Scleren?"  
  
Scleren shook his head in negation. "No. None of my staff have reported seeing anyone unusual in the nursery. As much as I hate to admit it myself, the thief has to be one of my people." The other doctor nodded silently as he mulled this last statement over. He clasped one of Scleren's shoulders and squeezed it in silent reassurance.  
  
"So what did the computer technician find?"  
  
"Nothing. None have been able to come to the nursery yet."  
  
"What?" Plenthor's bushy eyebrows drew together in confusion then smoothed as realization hit. "Oh yes, right, they're at the palace programming the pods for the king's little surprise visit for Frieza." Scleren nodded numbly.  
  
"Nothing will come of it but trouble."  
  
"You may be right. Have you placed your request to leave the planet, yet, Scleren?"  
  
"No, I have one more patient. In fact it happens to be Bardock's youngest child, Kakarot. He's scheduled to leave on his first mission in six days. I'm not going to even think about leaving until his pod is launched. And you, old friend?"  
  
"That's interesting. Kakarot was born (now what was it?) a month ago or thereabouts. He should have been sent on his first mission weeks ago." Plenthor skillfully avoided answering Scleren's question with a query of his own. "What has been holding up his departure?"  
  
"Paperwork," Scleren answered, which was partly the truth. In incidences of twins there was always a delay before the surviving child would be sent on his or her first mission. It took much longer for the necessary paperwork confirming the child's identity to process. To begin with, the official papers could not be sent for processing until the death of the weaker twin was confirmed. Scleren had received verification of that only last week and had just completed and sent Kakarot's credentials in a few days ago. During that time eight Saiyan infants had been born and sent on their first planet clearings. This made Kakarot the only baby left in the nursery, and hence, the last to leave. Since Saiyan females only entered into heat at particular times of the year and period of gestation was roundabouts of six months, Scleren deemed that it would be unlikely that any more females would be giving birth, since they would soon be entering heat again. Therefore, he was certain that after Kakarot left the planet he would be free to go also.  
  
"Plenthor, Plenthor," Scleren mumbled, chuckling quietly, "you were never very good at hiding the truth, especially from me, so tell me what is preventing your departure?" He had a pretty good idea of what was holding back the other doctor, but didn't want to think of the possible implications of his friend's rash—yet reasonable (from a doctor's point of view, at least)—decision.  
  
Plenthor stood in silence. He gazed up at Bardock's features—scowling even in the most deepest of sleeps—and the muscles of his jaw clenched in determination. "You know very well what is keeping me from leaving, old friend."  
  
"Why he means so much to you that you would throw away your own life for the impossibly slim chance that he will awaken is incomprehensible to me, Plenthor," Scleren replied, sighing.  
  
"Incomprehensible to you?" Plenthor's jaw shook in silent anger. "How dare you have the right to call yourself a doctor!"  
  
Malacca, ears perking up at the angry voice of his supervisor and comrade, pivoted his seat so that he faced the two arguing doctors.  
  
"Plenthor," Scleren interjected softly, "one of the virtues I attribute to my profession is that of wisdom." He turned toward his friend, slate-gray eyes blazing in concern and frustration. "Tell me, how wise is it to waste your efforts trying to save the life of another if your life is forfeited in the process?"  
  
The other doctor shut his eyes tightly and exhaled noisily in disgust. "Wasted effort. How can you be so certain that Bardock will die?"  
  
"You have no clue what is wrong with him or how to treat him."  
  
"Incorrect."  
  
Scleren sighed and rubbed at his clenched brow. "Even so, unless by some miracle King Vegeta succeeds, you will probably die. You have the potential to save so many lives, yet you would give it all away for one Saiyan, a man who has murdered countless innocent souls."  
  
"My job is not to determine who should live or die but to do everything in my power to ensure that life will be sustained. You say that I should leave Vegetasei now. That I should forget Bardock's plight and look to my own safety." He stared intently at Scleren, a pained expression on his face. Plenthor shook his head slowly from side to side in denouncement of Scleren's words. "I would be nothing less than a murderer myself if I left Vegetasei and allowed Bardock to die. Therefore I must stay until I have done everything in my power to revive him. That, and nothing less is what a doctor, a good doctor, would do. Is that not the wisdom you proclaim all in our profession should possess? Tell me Scleren, what kind of doctor are you?"  
  
Scleren made no move to answer. He stared blankly off into space, deep in his own thoughts. There was a strained pause during which Malacca was the only person who moved, head turning from Plenthor to Scleren and back to Plenthor again. It was Plenthor who finally broke the silence.  
  
"It appears that we are at odds on this issue, old friend." His dark eyes studied the stubborn set of Scleren's jaw and he sighed resignedly. "It will do neither of us any good to continue arguing over it. I suggest that we move on and forget our harsh words to each other." He stuck out his right hand, the corners of his mouth turning up in an affable grin.  
  
Still not meeting Plenthor's concerned eyes, Scleren nodded almost imperceptibly. "A good idea, old friend." He grabbed the other doctor's proffered hand in one of his own and gave it a brisk shake. Scleren, eyes still a distant and stormy gray, gave a poor facsimile of Plenthor's smile. "I thank you for your time, but I feel that it's necessary for me to leave now. I should be heading to the nursery and seeing if any technicians have arrived yet." He turned so that his back was to Plenthor and began to walk stiffly out of the room.  
  
Plenthor hesitated only for a few seconds before calling out to his friend. "Scleren," he said amiably, "I'll send Malacca over to the nursery to access the entrance history of the supply room as soon as he is finished running these tests for me." Malacca glanced at Plenthor at the mention of his name and then back at Scleren to see his response.  
  
The other man looked down at the floor a moment and then said, "I would greatly appreciate that." He lifted his hand in parting and inclined his head to the doctor and his scaly technician. "Good day, Plenthor. Malacca."  
  
Plenthor sighed after watching the panel shut behind Scleren. He shook his head sadly and then turned back to the regeneration tank, studying Bardock's stern and handsome features. "Why is my old and dear friend acting so strangely?" he silently queried his patient. A plume of bubbles spiraled from the oxygen mask covering Bardock's mouth and nose and gurgled to the surface of the tank, but the Saiyan didn't reply. 


	7. Part 1 Chap7

**Chapter 7**

The child squealed in delight as Pazru tossed him up in the air.  Laughing, the young man deftly caught the infant under the armpits and tucked the happy child in his arms.  The Saiyan eagerly tugged on Pazru's tunic and began to coo and babble excitedly, wanting to continue the game.  Pazru winced as the child's hands slapped against the large bruise stretching across the center of his chest.  That black and blue beauty had been a gift from Kakarot the day before.  

Unlike his twin, Kakarot was not very fond of water and let Pazru know that immediately when the young man set him in a tub to bathe him.  Faster than Pazru could react, he had rocked backward in Pazru's arms and kicked him forcefully with both chubby little feet, the strength of his blow knocking the air from the young man's lungs.  Had one of the nursery attendants not been around to pull the howling, struggling baby out of the tub and away from him, Pazru was certain that Kakarot would have tried to pound him to a pulp.  As exhausted as he had been lately, Pazru wasn't entirely sure he would have been able to fight off the enraged infant.    

Breath hissing between his teeth, Pazru gently pulled fistfuls of his tunic from the child's chubby digits, sighing in relief as the tiny, but still incredibly powerful fists left the tender skin of the bruise.  The infant stiffened in his arms and glared at him.  Pazru quickly ruffled the wild explosion of spiky hair, warding off the beating the Saiyan's fierce, dark eyes promised.  He had learned from Kakarot yesterday to never ever let his guard down around an irritated Saiyan, infant or otherwise.  The ever-present scowl lightened a bit and the child relaxed in his arms, giggling good-naturedly.  He grabbed Pazru's large, thin hand and swung it briskly around in the air above his head, laughing and gibbering loudly in delight.

_"Not even a month old and already so strong,"_ Pazru marveled as he watched his hand dangle limply in the infant's powerful grip.  Even though he had been working in the nursery for a little over a year now, he had never spent much time in close contact with any of the Saiyan children placed in his care.  Pazru had never been fully aware of how rapidly a Saiyan's strength and speed developed in the weeks following birth since most Saiyan babies were sent on their first missions about a week after they were born.  

_"Incredible.  Absolutely incredible," _he thought, looking down in wide-eyed wonder at the playful infant in his arms.  _"They weren't kidding me when they said that the Saiyans were a force to be reckoned with.  If one of the third-class Saiyan infants is nearly as powerful as I am, I wonder how powerful a first-class infant would be?"_

Pazru was startled out of his thoughts as a sharp set of tiny teeth closed around his thumb.  Still cooing happily, the child gently sucked at the startled man's digit, causing him no more pain than the occasional pinprick or two.  Pazru twitched as the infant's rough tongue slid over the pad of his thumb, tickling it.  He relaxed, smiling, and looked down at the tiny Saiyan tucked in his arms.  Looking back behind him to make sure the long counter—spotless now that he, disgusted with the room's sorry state, had decided to clean it up—was still behind him, Pazru adjusted his grip on the baby and leaned back against the cool surface of the counter.  A peaceful expression on his face, he watched the child, who was closely examining the two rows of small black buttons running down the center of his tunic in great interest.  Pazru chuckled as the baby cocked his head to the side in curiosity at his wavering image reflected in the surface one of the buttons.   He would never have thought that the child would come to trust him so much and in such a short period of time.  

_"Well, Pazru,_" he thought to himself, _ "now who exactly _is_ he going to trust? Eki?"_  Pazru snorted at the idea.  If it wouldn't have jeopardized the child's safety, as well as his own, he would definitely have reported Eki to Scleren, Plenthor, or one of the other authorities at the complex.  Dark eyes wide and curious, the baby reached up and gripped one of the shiny buttons lining Pazru's tunic.  He slowly turned the small, flattened knob around in his plump fingers, the light from the dim panels above glinting off the glossy black surface.  Pazru was oblivious to the child's touch, so caught up was he in his thoughts.  

 _"I at least wish that I could give that disgusting, greasy, no-account piece of garbage a piece of my mind,"_ he fumed, face darkening with anger._ "Leaving an infant to slowly starve to death like that!"  _And that wasn't all Eki had done.  Pazru's lower lip puckered and his brow wrinkled in unease.  He slowly and gently ran his fingers over the child's right shoulder blade, tracing the now invisible outlines of the large bruise he had run across a day or two after finding the child.  The infant, still staring intently at the button, shivered slightly under his touch, but made no effort to move away from his hand.  Pazru knew without a doubt that the slimy caretaker had been responsible for that; it was nearly impossible that the child could have sustained such a large contusion as that while in the bassinet.

The child yanked the button towards him to get a closer look at it, pulling Pazru's thumb from his mouth with his other hand as he did so.  With a small pop, the threads holding the button broke.  Cocking his head in interest at the small object rolling loose in his palm, the child cautiously sniffed at it.  Pazru yelled in alarm as the infant popped the button into his mouth and ripped his drool-soaked thumb from the child's grasp. With some difficulty he managed to pry open the baby's jaws, only to find that the button had already disappeared down his throat.  Tail puffed out and lashing furiously behind him, the baby scowled at Pazru's rough treatment and balled his hands into little fists in front of him.  The young man sighed and set the perturbed Saiyan on the floor.  He grabbed one of the small, fluffy blankets coiled inside the bassinet and threw it on the ground a few feet in front of the infant.  Eyes focusing on this new plaything, the child growled playfully, scurried over to the blanket heaped on the floor, and began to wrestle around in its folds.  Pazru turned from the laughing baby rolling on the ground at his feet and gathered up the other blankets from the bassinet.  

_"Kid 'bout gave me a heart attack back there,"_ he thought, shaking his head as in his mind he saw the child ingest the button again.  He hung the blankets over a small wire he had suspended in the space between two large cabinets, straightening the folds so that the covers could air out and dry.  

_"No wonder the Saiyans send their children off to other planets after they're born. The babies are always getting into so much trouble!"_   As if to emphasize this point, there was a loud ripping sound from the floor behind him.  Pazru, closing his eyes, groaned in exasperation and slowly turned.  The child sat contentedly on the floor below him, one tattered half of the blanket gripped tightly in one chubby hand and the other dangling from his mouth.  As Pazru watched, lips thinning in annoyance, the infant grabbed the piece of cloth clenched in his jaws with his free hand and tore it into two smaller pieces, his sharp little teeth cutting cleanly through the thick fabric.  

"Not _again_!" Pazru shouted in vexation.  The child, a scrap of blanket hanging from his mouth, paused and stared up in surprise at the young man towering over him.  Pazru rolled his eyes and flung his hands up in the air.  "That's the third one this week!"  He bent over the infant, who gave him a curious look before ripping the shreds of blanket into even smaller pieces.  Sighing, Pazru plucked the scraps of fabric from his hands.  Growling, the infant snapped at him but the young man deftly moved out of his reach and walked over to the small incinerator embedded in the wall.  

Pazru looked back once at the infant, who had scampered angrily after him, and said, "Do you have _any_ idea how much trouble I go through to get you those?"  Still growling, the child grabbed fistfuls of Pazru's trousers in his hands and pulled himself to a standing position.  His tail whipped behind him for balance as he began to wobble unsteadily.  He stared up at his caretaker; eyes bright and teeth bared menacingly.  His lower lip puckered and he burst into tears.

"Oh, stop it, it's not like I forgot to feed you or anything."  The young man snorted and lifted the wailing baby from the floor.  "Kami forbid I ever forget to do that."  He gently began to rock from side to side, rubbing the child's back soothingly.  Wrapping his tail around Pazru's wrist for security, the Saiyan sniffed a few times and gave a forlorn whimper, his tears drying on his cheeks.  Pazru continued to sway until the child's breathing become a slow and steady rush against his chest.  Smiling lovingly, he walked as carefully as possible over to the open bassinet, trying not to jar the infant awake.  The child stirred as the young man set him gently down into the bassinet and curled into a tight little ball, unconsciously popping his thumb in his mouth and curling his tail around his body as he did so.  

Pazru sighed contentedly, if not a little wearily, and grabbed the last clean blanket from the counter.  Before he came for tonight's feeding and bath he would have to remember to snag a few more blankets from the nursery supply room.  

He gently tucked the edges of the soft gray blanket underneath the child's splayed arms and legs, pausing as he gave a loud yawn and turned onto his belly.  He had been lying on top of a teething ring, and Pazru picked up the mangled piece of plastic and turned it around in his hands. The battered toy ripped in two as he tugged gently on it and Pazru fetched an exasperated sigh.  _"Well, I guess nothing lasts forever," _he thought as he stared at the twisted pieces of plastic sagging limply in his hands.  Absentmindedly tossing the two halves of the teething ring onto the counter, he lightly touched his thumb to the softly glowing button and waited for the bassinet lid to close.  Making a mental note to grab another teething ring when he visited the supply room this evening, Pazru turned down the lights and left the tiny backroom.  

Checking carefully to make sure that no one was around, he snuck out into one of the main corridors, heading towards the mess hall.  It had been sometime since he had had anything to eat, and watching the infant wolf down all of the food bars he had brought had made him even hungrier.  His stomach growled noisily in agreement and he rubbed at his abdomen gently, checking around a corner before turning left and heading down the long, brightly lit hallway.  

His whining belly wasn't the only reason he was going to the mess hall, though.  He hadn't heard from Kyokou in almost two weeks, and he was hoping to see his friend there.  Even though he loved the child as if he was his own, Pazru knew that he couldn't keep up this pace for long.  The multiple feedings in addition to all of his other duties were beginning to take a heavy toll on his weary body.  Eventually he would get so tired that he would let his guard down and someone would catch him, and that would definitely mean death for the child, and most likely for him also.  Therefore, meeting with Kyokou tonight would be an absolute necessity.

_"What do I tell him, though?" _Pazru thought worriedly and massaged his temples.  _" 'Sorry, buddy, but I need you to get a move on with this pod business, my lady doesn't take kindly to delay?'  No, no, no, that won't do any good!"_  He pressed his palms against the sides of his face and clenched his eyes tightly shut, oblivious that he had stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. 

 _"What can I say that will speed up this whole process?  Nothing!  Absolutely nothing I say or do to Kyokou will make it any easier for him to find me a free pod.  He's doing all he can.  You have to keep reminding yourself of that, Pazru!"_  He growled in frustration, drawing curious looks from a pair of pod strip of attendants walking in the other direction.

_"I know, I know," _he told himself, lips silently shaping the words, _"but I think that I'm going to go flat out, raving mad if I don't get a decent night's sleep pretty soon!  Heck, a decent _hour's_ sleep!  Not only is that kid a bottomless pit, he's a living wrecking ball!  How many times have I snuck into the supply room to steal more blankets and teething rings and towels and…and, GRRRRR!_  

Feeling a hand drop onto his arm, Pazru opened his eyes and looked at the young woman staring up at him, her soft green eyes clouded with concern.  

"Are you okay, Pazru?" she said hesitantly, her fingers squeezing his bicep ever so gently.  

Pazru's cheeks lit up with a furious blush as he recognized her.  He hadn't seen her since the day he had had dinner with Kyokou.  Though they worked together every now and then, he had never had the courage to actually start a conversation with her.  His eyes lingered on hers a moment, and she backed away from him, cheeks reddening under his scrutiny.  

"Umm, fine, I'm…. I'm fine," he managed to spit out, voice wavering slightly.  Her hand left his arm, her long, delicate fingers sliding down the sleeve of his tunic.  His arm tingled faintly and warmly with her retreating touch, and he struggled not to go completely mad at the sensation.  She opened her mouth to speak, but Pazru cut her off.  

"So how have things been going….ah….?"  She cocked her head and looked at him oddly; Pazru struggled not to loose himself in the soft, shiny mass of her hair.  

"I think I should be the one asking that question.  You look awful, Pazru."  The worry was plainly evident in her voice.  

 "Oh great, I'm doing great.  Really busy, you know, but besides that, great."  He restrained himself from clapping his hand to his forehead and tried desperately to think of something a little more sophisticated to say.  The young woman's brow furrowed in mild suspicion and disbelief.  She placed her hands on her hips and shifted her weight to one foot, the curve of her hip just barely visible beneath the baggy white tunic she wore.  Pazru's eyes traveled, against his will, down her small body.  This time he did slap himself.

_"What are you thinking, Pazru!?" _he thought angrily.  _"You don't have time for this! _

His eyelids fluttered open and he stared down at his coworker, trying desperately to not to snap at her.  "I'm really sorry.  I just…," he searched desperately for the right words, "I just don't have the time right now."  He turned away from her as he finished and bolted down the hallway, but not before seeing the hurt look on her face. 

Her voice echoed down the hallway after him.  "Pazru, it's Moira."  

He skidded to a stop and turned around, his haunted eyes, glimmering gold in the overhead lights,  focused on her straight form standing quietly alone in the corridor.  "W h…wha…"  he cleared his throat noisily and prepared to speak again.  "Wha…What did you say?"

"I said that my name is Moira."  She giggled shyly, and turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

Pazru stood shocked, watching the girl  (_no, her name is Moira_) leave.  He let his eyes follow her till she turned down a different passageway, and then shook himself back to his senses.  He began to run down the hallways, mentally kicking himself for acting as stupidly as he just had.  

_"Damn it, I just can't do anything right!"_ he thought as he ran.  _"I might have had a chance with her, but after this I bet she'll never want to see me again."_   He shook his head violently, trying to clear the image of her beautiful face crumpling in sorrow from his mind.  He hadn't wanted to hurt her, that much was true.  If he didn't have a million other things to do he would have loved to stop and chat with her, maybe even ask her to lunch; however, if he didn't make it to the mess hall soon, there was a good chance that he would miss Kyokou.  If that happened, Pazru was sure he really would go insane.  He needed the arrangements for the pod settled now, and no later.  He couldn't wait another week or two for Kyokou's report on the pod situation; he wanted to know right now.

  A shock of greasy green hair—he hadn't washed in days—fell loose from the haphazard braid of hair zigzagging down the back of his head, and he distractedly tucked it behind his ear.  The corridor ended in a four-way intersection he took the right-hand path, heading towards the mess hall.  The light panels above him flashed by as he jogged down the long passage, and his mind drifted back to the last meeting he had had with Kyokou.  

The man had given him a large stack of papers listing all available pod destinations the last time they had met.  Pazru had listened quietly (as usual whenever involved in a conversation with Kyokou) as, with a big goofy grin on his face, Kyokou had pointed out the most romantic locations.  Surprisingly enough, he had listened intently to his friend; sending the child to perish on a barren wasteland would be just as bad as letting him be killed on Vegetasei.  After a few pages and suggestive nudges from Kyokou every time they came to a "real hotspot" as he liked to call them, the pod strip attendant had pointed out Frieza #93.  He had described the planet as lush, beautiful, isolated, and warm, and Pazru had stopped him and agreed to that location immediately.  

Pazru's lips curled in a faint smile as he remembered the look on his friend's face.  ("But wouldn't you rather go to a resort planet, Paz?")  Pazru had been at odds as to how to answer that one, but had been saved by Kyokou's own scheming mind.  ("Oh… I get it: isolated.  Good thinking, Paz.")  

Smile widening at the memory, the young man darted around a corner.  He pushed past a throng of people talking animatedly near the entrance to the mess hall and stepped inside the warmly lit room, craning his head around in search of his friend.  The mess hall was as full and noisy as usual, but Kyokou was nowhere to be seen.  Frowning slightly in frustration, Pazru tapped on the shoulder of one of Kyokou's coworkers.  The burly man turned slowly around in his seat at the touch and stared distrustfully at the haggard med-center attendant standing before him.  

"Yeah, what you want?" he said in a gruff voice.  The other pod attendants ringing the table grew suddenly quiet and eyed Pazru suspiciously. 

Shrinking under their gaze, he replied shakily, "Uh…, nothing, nothing."  The large man's eyebrows drew together and he stared confusedly at the young man as he struggled desperately to speak.  Pazru took a deep breath.  "Actually I was hoping if you had seen Kyokou lately."  The man's eyes narrowed slightly.  He carefully regarded Pazru's greasy hair, wrinkled clothes, and dark-ringed eyes.  

"Maybe I have," he replied cautiously, eyes never leaving the young man's face for a second.  "Why should I tell you?" The eyes of the other attendants at the table darted from one man to the other; a few began to whisper quietly among themselves.  

"I'm a friend of his and I…I needed to talk to him.  It's really important."

"Important, huh?  Well it's going to have to wait cuz' Kyokou won't be back for another day or two."  The man chuckled quietly to himself, his large shoulders shaking slightly.  The others joined in his laughter.

"What!" Leaning forward, Pazru gripped the man's meaty upper arm and squeezed.  "What do you mean 'he won't be back for another day or two'?! Where is he?!"  

The beefy pod strip attendant, a look of undisguised disgust on his face, shook the young man's hand from his arm.  "Relax, kid.  He's at the palace right now."

"So he is directing the pods for the…the king and the other warriors going to meet Frieza?"  Nibbling his lower lip, Pazru stared blankly at the stack of dirty plates sitting in the center of the table.  

"You got it." Giving Pazru one last appraising look, the man turned back to his companions and his meal.  The other attendants joined suit and conversation soon began to waft from the table.  

Pazru turned slowly away from them and headed towards the back of the mess hall.  He found a small, secluded table in the corner of the room.  _"At the palace.  Gone for another day or two.  What am I going to do?"_ he mused to himself as he sat down on the cushioned seat.  Fingers moving deftly and unthinkingly over the menu screen before him, Pazru selected and paid for his meal.  He ate in silence, mulling over the burly pod attendant's words.  Pushing his plate aside, he stood up and headed out of the mess hall, the raucous laughter of the pod strip attendants following him as he left.

*           *           *           

The nursery supply room was pleasantly cool as Pazru entered.  He moved quietly and with care so as not to wake Kakarot and the night attendant, who were both sleeping peacefully in the main room.  Shelves filled with plain white boxes of various sizes lined the walls from floor to ceiling.  After allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness (he hadn't wanted to bring any attention to himself by turning on a light), Pazru bent and pulled one of the larger boxes from one of the lower shelves.  Setting the container quietly on the floor and glancing around quickly to make sure no one was standing behind him watching, he popped open the lid and began to pull blankets out of the box.  He replaced the lid and slid the box back into its place.  Stepping over the blankets lying in a jumbled heap on the floor, he walked to the back of the large room.  He carefully studied the nametag on each of the boxes, squinting in the dim light that filtered in from the door opening into the main nursery.  He reached upwards and pulled a small metal box from one of the upper shelves.  There was a faint jingling from inside as the box's contents shifted and slid to one end.  Balancing the container on one bony hip, Pazru opened it and pulled out a handful of shiny, brand new teething rings.  

_"I give these and the blankets two weeks tops,"_ he thought dryly to himself, a thin smile forming on his lips.  He stuffed the teething rings into the front pockets of his tunic and looked backwards again as he returned the box containing the teething rings to its rightful place, banging one of his shins painfully against the bottom shelf as he did so.  Pazru shook his head at his own paranoia.  _"If I ever make it through this alive, I don't think I'll ever be able to come in here again without feeling guilty."  _He sighed.  Those were the breaks.  

Crouching next to the pile of blankets, he began to nimbly fold and twist them into neat little rolls. He then stuffed the rolls into the waistband of his trousers.  Rising slowly to his feet, Pazru straightened and smoothed the wrinkles from his tunic, making absolutely sure that the lumps of the blankets didn't show beneath it.  He looked over the supply room carefully to make sure that everything was in its correct place.  Satisfied, he left the room and tiptoed out into the main nursery. 

 Snores rose from somewhere off to his left, where the attendant was sleeping slumped over in her chair.  From where he stood, Pazru could see the gentle rise and fall of Kakarot's chest.  He paused as the baby suddenly moved, his tiny fists clenching and unclenching above him. An irritated wail rose from the bassinet, echoing dully against the walls of the nursery.  The attendant stirred in her sleep.  Biting his lip in fear and drawing blood, Pazru stopped dead in his tracks.  His mind began to rapidly turn over possible reasons he could give the attendant for being in the nursery at this time of the night.  The women yawned and turned her head to the side, her hair falling aside to reveal a thick plug wedged into her ear.  Sighing in relief, the young man relaxed and continued to creep towards the door.  Movement caught his eye and he suddenly stopped again, nearly tripping over his own feet and toppling to the floor in the process.    

Someone was watching him.  The glare of the overhead lights obscured most of what lay behind the large windows separating the nursery from the hallway, but the face pressed against the glass was no insomnia-induced hallucination.  Stifling a scream, Pazru stood stock-still and stared rigidly at the figure looking in on him.  This was it; he was caught.  Everything was over now; he might as well admit everything to the person standing behind the glass. Pazru lifted his hands, palms facing outward, expecting to feel the cool weight of the manacles closing around his wrists.  Voice cracking in fear, he said, "I know what this looks like but I have a good explanation."  

Large, feral eyes stared intently in at him.  Kakarot gave a louder cry and wriggled about in the bassinet.  The eyes followed the baby's movement intently.   Relaxing slightly, Pazru leaned forward, squinting to see the person standing behind the glass.  He hadn't been seen after all, and if he had, the man (for the shadow of broad, muscular shoulders suggested that it was a man) didn't seem to care.  He was focused entirely on the little Saiyan wailing in the bassinet in front of him.  As Pazru watched, the man suddenly put his hand to his forehead and his eyes shut tightly as if in pain.  Kakarot's cries intensified. The man shuddered and nearly collapsed against the glass.  

_"Could it be?" _Pazru thought to himself in wonder as the glare shifted and he caught sight of the spiky explosion of black hair covering the man's head.  _"He's a Saiyan, that's for sure, but is it who I think it is?"_  Shaking his head violently, the Saiyan stood up straight and resumed staring at the wailing infant.  The overhead lights glinted off of the scouter he wore over his left eye; his eyes shifted, apparently looking at a reading displayed on the transparent green lens.  Pazru could tell by the way the man's face twisted in disgust that he wasn't happy with the scouter's report. 

 _"It just has to be him.  Who else would care about the child's power level except for his father?"_  He watched as the Saiyan muttered something, the words blocked completely by the thick windows.  Pazru bolted for the door, hoping to catch him before he left.  He collided head on with the other man and landed on the floor in a heap, two teething rings flying out of his pocket as he fell.  They hit the ground with a soft plop and skittered across the floor.  Pazru groaned and lifted one hand to his aching head.  Stars flew in front of his eyes, but there was no mistaking who the man standing in front of him was.  

"Bardock…," he whispered quietly.  The Saiyan's eyes narrowed to tiny slits at the mention of his name, and he stared down menacingly at the young man lying in a crumpled heap at his feet.  He moved to step over the other man, but Pazru grabbed one of his leg warmers firmly.  "Bardock, your son," he managed to spit out.  His vision swam with bright swirls of color and light and he fought to clear his head.  The towels had absorbed most of the impact, but Pazru knew without a doubt that he would be sporting a good many bruises on his back the next morning.  Elbow twinging painfully as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, he stared pleadingly up at Bardock, who had paused at Pazru's last statement.  

"What about my son?" he said gruffly, a flicker of annoyance passing through his features, but his eyes betrayed him by glancing concernedly back in the direction of the nursery, from which Kakarot's petulant cries could still be heard.  

Encouraged, Pazru replied, "No, not Kakarot.  You have another son, he—"

"What has Raditz done this time?" Bardock interjected wearily, the large scar on his cheek stretching white as his jaw tightened.  Pazru shook his head slowly and struggled to regain his feet.  

"No, not Raditz.  You have another son.  I'm…," he stood up slowly and tottered dizzily for a moment, nearly falling into Bardock as he did so, "I'm taking care of him right now.  I need help, though.  He'll be killed if he isn't sent off planet soon. I need your help, I…"  

Pazru blinked and stared closely at Bardock, who hadn't heard a word he had said by the looks of him.  Eyes glazed, the Saiyan stared blankly off into space.  Looking frustrated, Pazru waved his hand back and forth in front of his eyes.  With a strangled cry, Bardock suddenly snapped out of his trance-like state.  He pushed past the young man standing in his way and darted down the corridor, not looking back once.  Pazru, a startled look on his face, hit the wall with the force of the blow and sank to his knees.  The back of his head throbbed dully from where it had struck the cool metal and he rubbed at it weakly.  He looked down the hallway in the direction the Saiyan had headed, but Bardock had long since disappeared.  He momentarily considered getting up and heading after him, but his aching head told him it would be best to stay put until he could stand up without support.  

Pazru sighed.  Scleren had been right: Bardock didn't care.  Either that or Plenthor had been right when he said that there was something amiss with the Saiyan's brainwaves.  Pazru suspected that both doctors were correct.  Either way, it was pointless to keep trying to make contact with Bardock; the man obviously had other things on his mind.  Leaning on the wall heavily for support, Pazru rose shakily to his feet.  He stood still for a moment, willing away the galaxy of brilliant red stars that flashed before his eyes.  The young man stared down the corridor and his features clouded with anger.  Growling in frustration, he brought his fist crashing down onto the wall.  _"Damnit!  Why did he have to blink out right when I was telling him the important stuff!"_ he thought angrily.  The two misplaced teething rings caught his eye, and once his knees had stopped shaking he kneeled to retrieve them.  He scrubbed away a few tiny specks of dirt from one of the circlets and then returned both to his pocket. 

Kakarot's cries echoed down the hallway from the nursery and Pazru, rubbing at his injured elbow gingerly, turned.  The baby was thrashing wildly about in the bassinet.  His voice was now a dry, rough croak.  A concerned look crossed the young man's face and he moved to reenter the nursery.  Vivid and painful memories of the last time he had dealt with Kakarot flooded his mind and he paused a few steps away from the door panel.  Duty pulled at him, but Pazru suppressed the urge to go and comfort the child.  Feeling guilty, he turned away from the floor-to-ceiling windows and walked away from the nursery.  

_"Sorry little guy, but anymore bruises and I'll be unrecognizable.  Geez, what is it with me and the Saiyans lately?  It seems no matter what I do I just end up getting hurt."  _His face clouded and he quickened his pace.  A pair of intoxicated pod strip attendants, singing loudly and leaning heavily on each other for support, staggered past in him.  Their discordant voices bounced off the walls of the corridors.   

Frowning, Pazru stopped and stared back around at the direction he had come.  What exactly had caused Kakarot to react so violently?  He had made absolutely certain to be as quiet as possible.  The cycling air and sound-tight lid of the bassinet made it next to impossible for the baby to have heard him walking through the nursery, and the glare from the overhead lights would have obscured most of the surrounding room from view, so it was unlikely that Kakarot had caught sight of him walking by.  What was it then?  Pazru nibbled his lower lip in concentration.  Had Kakarot seen Bardock?  There was no way to know exactly when the child's father had appeared, but he figured that the Saiyan had only been at the windows for a minute or two before he had caught sight of him standing there.  Kakarot had started crying shortly before that.  It would make sense that Bardock had been the cause, but it would have been impossible for the child to have seen him.  Pazru had just barely caught sight of the man standing behind the windows, the glare had been so fierce.  The light bouncing off of the bassinet lid as well as off the glass of the viewing windows should have rendered the corridor beyond the nursery invisible to the tiny Saiyan.  

_"Could he have sensed his father's presence then?"_ Pazru mulled over this thought for some time.  Another group of happily chattering complex employees turned down the corridor in which he was standing and he moved off to the side and out of their way without looking up once.  It was possible that Kakarot had sensed that Bardock was nearby; it was known that the bonds between two mated Saiyans extended past the physical realm and into that of extrasensory perception.  It wasn't farfetched in the least that such bonds would exist between parents and children.  

"I wonder…," he muttered out loud and began to jog down the hallway towards the vacant section of the complex, the concealed towels bumping against his bony hips. 

**_Comments, suggestions, complaints?  Email me at oritsusp@hotmail.com.  I love reading feedback comments!_**


	8. Part 1 Chap8

Chapter 8 

_            "What about my son?"_

_            "No, not Kakarot.  You have another son, he—"_

_            "What has Raditz done this time?"_

_            "No, not Raditz.  You have another son.  I'm taking care of him right now.  I need help, though.  He'll be killed if he isn't sent off planet soon. I need your help, I…"_

*           *           *

            Pazru broke out of his endlessly circling thoughts as a sharp spike of pain rippled through his scalp.  The baby, a lock of Pazru's long green hair tightly clasped in one fist, giggled and tugged harder.  Grimacing in pain, the young man smoothed his fingers down the captured piece of hair until he reached the baby's hand.  He slid his fingers firmly down the silky strands and pushed away the tiny grasping fingers.  An absent-minded look on his face, he moved quickly and set the child on the floor. Walking away to lean against the nearest countertop, he let his mind drift back again to the run-in he had had with Bardock two days before. 

            The child stared at his lanky caretaker in mingled anger and confusion.  He cocked his head to the side and studied the glazed-eyed face of the tall young man standing on the opposite side of the room from him. The tip of his tail curled into a tight spiral and then released, curled again, released.  The Orange Man (as he liked to think of him) was different today, quieter; the child knew this, but was too young to understand exactly what the difference was.  He wasn't fun like usual, throwing him up into the air and catching him, tickling his sides.  It made him angry to be ignored by the Orange Man.  The infant growled and whipped his tail back and forth behind him in agitation.  He was angry because the Orange Man's behavior was making him feel like he had felt before, with the other person, the Bad Man.  The Bad Man had hurt him and eventually had begun to ignore him, and that had made him feel insignificant and weak.  His tail stopped its movements and settled about his waist in one single, fluid motion.  A look of fear crossed briefly over his face and he popped one of his thumbs into his mouth and began to suck at it thoughtfully.

            The Orange Man wouldn't hurt him, would he?  He wouldn't stop bringing food like the Bad Man had, would he?  He shuddered as flashes of the Bad Man zapping him with the little box he always carried and then striking him entered his mind.  He hunched over his knees into a tight little ball and began to rock slowly from side to side, the motion comforting him.  Tears pricked at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.  The Orange Man had yelled at him plenty of times, but never had he struck him.  He didn't think that his gentle caretaker had the capacity for violence that the Bad Man had, but the vacant look that was on the Orange Man's face right now wasn't very reassuring.  

            Bright light and a jumble of images suddenly flashed before his eyes and he clasped his head in his hands.  The vision didn't relent but attacked his mind again.  A large red sphere on a plain of white bursting into tiny pieces and the weakly smiling, blood-streaked face of a dying man superimposed themselves onto his vision.  Grimacing in pain, the child shook his head violently to clear it of the disturbing pictures.  

            Not again.  The images were coming again.  They were always the same.  The exploding crimson ball and the dying man.  The child buried his hands in his thick hair and pushed against his skull with all the strength he could muster.  The visions intensified for a moment, the colors sharpening and the images becoming frighteningly real for a moment before blending back together and fading away quickly.  Cold sweat popped up all over his body and the child heaved in a breath, gulping the air as eagerly as he would the food the Orange Man always brought with him.  His body began to shudder uncontrollably and he popped his thumb back in his mouth in an attempt to calm himself and dispel the shakes.  

He didn't like to see these things.  They scared him and made his head hurt.  To him, the visions seemed to have been coming on and off for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality they had only just started a little less than a day ago.   He didn't understand what these scary pictures meant, and that thought frightened him even more.  Hot tears trembled in his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks.  The child whimpered quietly and began to rock even more frantically.  

He knew that his brother was seeing the exact same images because he could sense the connection between them—the hazy presence in the back of his mind that had grown less and less as the time he and his twin had spent apart had increased—become stronger when the visions came.  And he sensed that there was another person, an adult, someone who he had never met before but held a strong connection to nonetheless, that was also having in these strange visions.  In fact, they originated from him.  

Threads of anger pulsed dully in his mind and down his spine, spiking up the fur on his tail.  The child hated the man for causing him and his brother so much pain.  Another emotion that he couldn't place tightened itself in a cold uneasy knot in his belly.  For some reason, he felt bad that he hated the man who had sent him the frightening images.  

Confused with these conflicting emotions and cold now that the sweat had begun to dry on his small body, the child threw back his head and began to wail loudly.  Startled by the noise, Pazru jumped and glanced frantically about the room for the source.  He immediately darted over to the other side of the room and scooped the screaming child up into his arms.  The infant Saiyan buried his head in the young man's tunic and sobbed inconsolably, his chest hitching with the force of each breath.  A troubled look passed over Pazru's face as he stared down at the bawling child in his arms. He gently rubbed the infant's bare back and cooed tenderly at him.  

He didn't like this recent development in the child one bit.  It bothered him to see the normally active (to say pleasant and good-natured would be a stretch) baby in such a pitiful state.  He had been unusually sulky and listless as of late; if this had been any other Saiyan baby in the nursery, Pazru would have taken one look at the child and concluded that he was suffering from the effects of hunger.  However, he knew for a fact that this was not the case.  He went to such lengths as to make several return visits to the mess hall for extra food to confirm that the child was well nourished.  

Pazru shifted his weight to his other hip and adjusted the still shaking, but much quieter bundle in his arms.  He stroked the soft black hair and hummed quietly as he thought.  This seemingly odd behavior couldn't actually be part of normal Saiyan development, could it?  Pazru frowned and bit his lip.  He didn't think so, but then again, he had never been around a Saiyan child this age since most were sent to other planets about a week after birth.  

            His lips suddenly curved into a small smile.  Probably the only people who knew anything about Saiyan development after that first week or two would be the unfortunate inhabitants of the planet the baby was scheduled to clear, and Pazru sincerely doubted that any would survive to tell the tale.  He smiled grimly.  _"Maybe you'll be the one to write the book on it.  That is, if you manage to make it through this alive."_  It was a dark and gloomy thought, but would probably end up to be true in the end.  

He glanced down at the whimpering child in his arms.  Pazru didn't think that the baby would try to kill him.  True, Saiyans were unpredictable, but their loyalties to companions and kin were typically very strong.  He had been caring for this child since he was born and knew without a doubt that the child trusted him.  The way he was clinging to his tunic right now was almost irrefutable proof of that point.  Loyal or not, Pazru was going to do whatever he could to make sure this child survived.

A sudden thought crossed his mind.  It was a brief memory, an image of Bardock standing with his face pressed against the viewing window of the nursery staring in on Kakarot.  Pazru's brow furrowed in concentration.  Something inside of him told him that this memory held the explanation to this odd behavior.  "_Let me see," _he thought to himself.  "_Kakarot was sound asleep…until or shortly before Bardock arrived. Then I went out to talk to Bardock, which was absolutely pointless," _he frowned in remembrance and rubbed idly at his bruised elbow.  _"Bardock fell into some sort of trance-like state while I was trying to talk to him.  If I can remember correctly, Kakarot …. Kakarot's cries actually _intensified _when Bardock zoned out.  Hmmm," _Pazru looked off to the side, his brow wrinkling in deep concentration._  "What is the connection though?  As far as I know, that was the first time Bardock and his son had ever met, so Kakarot shouldn't have had any lingering negative feelings against him.  Could it be that whatever is affecting Bardock since he has awakened is affecting his son also?_"  Realization dawned on Pazru's face and he glanced down at the sniffling baby huddled against his chest.  "_Make that both sons; Kakarot hasn't been the only baby of the two who has been suffering from fits of inconsolable crying lately."_

_"But what _exactly_ is wrong with Bardock?"_ Pazru thought, frustrated.  The Saiyan had been staring vacantly off into space, almost as if he was in another place or world.  For those few seconds he had taken his twin sons with him.  Judging from the way the two babies had reacted to the experience, whatever they had seen or felt hadn't been too pleasant.     

The infant in his arms turned his tear-streaked face up and stared at Pazru.  The young man met his dark, troubled eyes, smiled warmly, and chucked his chin with one hand.  "What did you see that bothered you so much, little guy?" he asked gently.  The child's face suddenly lightened and he stretched grasping hands towards Pazru's face.  Pazru, an amused expression on his face, bent his head forward and let the child touch his face.  Tiny fingers moved over and down his cheeks lightly.  They tightened around his chin, pulling his face down so that the two of them were nearly nose-to-nose.  The child shut his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration.  He pulled Pazru's head closer to his own so that their foreheads just barely touched.   

The young man nearly reared backward in shock as the room disappeared around him, replaced by a blinding, red-tinged light.  Random, scattered images appeared, became distinct, then merged back with the bloody background.  The images slowed briefly, enough for him to pick out a few from the disturbing kaleidoscope swirling before his eyes.  He could see a man, a Saiyan from the spiky black hair and hard, feral eyes.  Blood ran in dark rivulets down the sides of his face; he was dying.  The Saiyan's lips moved, but Pazru was able to discern no sound coming from them.  Then that image was replaced by another, this one of a large, red ball (_a planet perhaps?)_ swirling in space.  The planet suddenly exploded into a million tiny pieces.  Pazru jerked backwards, trying to avoid the flying hunks of rock as they passed by him.  

His movements broke the connection and the room suddenly reappeared around him.  Sweat was running down the sides of his face in streams and he was shaking with the intensity of the visions.  A breathless cry issued from his lips and he pressed his eyes shut and shook his reeling head to clear it.  Still gasping, he opened his eyes.  Only inches away, the child was staring at him with a sad, yet relieved, expression on his face.  A single tear ran down his cheek.  He patted Pazru's face gently and began to speak to him in gibberish.  

"Da da eee ee?  Buh da oo?" he jabbered, a serious expression on his face.

Pazru nodded.  He didn't need words to understand what the child was trying to ask him.  "Yes, I see."  He smoothed an errant strand of hair from the child's face and smiled tenderly at him.  "I may not understand what those things mean, but I see them." A rare smile crossed the child's features and he snuggled into Pazru's chest, his arms wrapped around his neck and his tail around his wrist.  Pazru, having recovered slightly from the deluge of images, returned his smile, hugged him close, and buried his face in the soft spiky hair on the child's head.  

*           *           *

            The shower was warm and soothing after the harrowing last few days that had just passed.  Pazru leaned into the spray and let his skin and hair soak up the steaming water.  He sighed in relief and let his shoulders sag.  It was so good to be back in his quarters again.  This day seemed to have lasted for nearly an eternity.  His hand strayed to the small shelf that extended from the shower's smooth interior and the plastic jar that rested on it.  He fumbled with the lid for a brief moment and then shook it over his body.  A thick blue powder floated downward from the open container and foamed up immediately as the water mixed with it.  Pazru rubbed the soap into his skin and hair, scrubbing away the sweat and grime of a long day's work.  

            Kakarot's papers had finally gone through and he had been assigned his first mission.  The target: a small, out-of-the-way planet named Chikyuusei.  It was a fitting destination for a third-class Saiyan infant and he would more likely than not thrive there.  At least that was what Pazru had assumed when he had read over the mission directives the first ten times.

            He had been put in charge of all of the preparations for Kakarot's departure and, not being the most adept leader, the nursery had been thrown into near chaos.  Scleren had been preoccupied with other things that he had crustily refused to name.  The old doctor had been grumpier than usual lately.  He had waken Pazru in the early hours before the first sun rose (Pazru had just barely returned to his quarters from feeding the child not an hour before), led him to the nursery, and told him that he was to see to the preparations for Kakarot's departure.  Besides that, Scleren had not been very forthcoming with suggestions, growling angrily at him to "get used to it," before storming off to his own living quarters.  

            The rest of the day was pretty much a blur of activity after that.  Pazru remembered rushing about the nursery throwing out orders, sometimes the same order to two or more different people.  The result had been a confused group of over 30 med-center personnel running back and forth throughout the complex with papers, blankets, and other items clasped in their hands, asking him questions and receiving nothing but questions in return.   Worse yet, flashes of the disturbing visions the child had given to him (dumped on him was a better description, but Pazru wasn't about to complain; he had wanted to know what Bardock and the twins had been seeing) kept coming up during the course of the past two days, making it difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand.  Also, he had been unable to sneak off to care for the child until the very end of the day since seemingly every staff member in the entire complex wanted his opinion on the best cryo-sleep program to use in the pod or whether or not Kakarot would need an extra blanket and a million other mostly inane questions to which he had no answer.  

            Pazru sighed and watched the filmy soap suds slide off of his body and down the drain at his feet.   First he had only been responsible for completing his homework assignments and other tasks, then taking care of the baby, and now Scleren had put him in charge of preparing for Kakarot's departure.  Pazru let his forehead rest against the smooth wet surface of the shower wall and shut his eyes.  Sometimes life seemed too difficult to deal with sometimes.  At least there were only two days left until Kakarot's pod would launch.  Then all this leadership business would cease, at least until the next baby was born, and that was assuming that Scleren would allow him to take over the launch preparations again after the royal mess he would most likely make of this one.     

            Pazru turned off the water, the handle giving a rusty squeal as he did so, and stepped out of the stall.  Grabbing a towel from the stack hidden in the cupboard beneath the sink, he began to briskly dry himself.  Still toweling his hair off, he stepped naked into the main room of his small apartment in the complex.    

            "Geez, Paz, show some shame, why don't ya?"  Pazru gave a startled yelp and jerked the towel down to cover himself.  Kyokou's eyebrows rose in an appraising look and he whistled.  "I see now why this girl of yours is so enamored with you.  Wow."  He threw his head back and laughed as the other man stood before him, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

            Finally, blushing furiously, Pazru managed to break his paralysis.  He darted to the small closet on the far side of the room and began to dress himself, using the closet's door to block his body from view.  Fully clothed, he stepped over to the small, ratty couch on which Kyokou was reclining with his eyes shut, his hands folded behind his head. His helmet, scouter carefully tucked inside, lay on the floor beside him. He cracked open an eye, took one look at Pazru's indignant expression, and started laughing all over again.

            "Come on, Paz, it's not like I interrupted you while you were in the middle of something important or anything," he said with a grin and a suggestive wink.  "Besides, a few of the guys mentioned that some crazy bum had been trying to reach me and, figuring that they couldn't be talking about anyone else but you, I decided to stop by and see how you were getting along."  He eyed Pazru again and grinned.  "At least you cleaned yourself up."  

            Pazru sighed and relaxed, all signs of anger leaving his face.  There was just no way he could stay upset with Kyokou for very long, especially when he had that ever-present, idiotic grin on his face.

            "Where have you been, you idiot?" he yelled in mock annoyance and anger at his friend.  

            Kyokou's smile widened, but he looked weary.  "At the palace.  I thought that the guys told you that."

            "Yes, they did, but what took you so long to get back?"

            "Delays."  He shrugged and looked away, unwilling to add more.  Pazru didn't press him.  Judging from the dark circles lining the undersides of his friend's normally bright blue eyes and the wrinkles in his normally crisp, clean uniform, Kyokou had had quite a harrowing time these past few days.

            "So, do you want a drink?"

            "No, thanks.  I have to pull duty down at the pad in another fifteen minutes or so, so it would be best if I didn't stay too long."  Pazru nodded in agreement and sat down in the chair facing the couch.  He wanted desperately to ask Kyokou if any pods had become available, but decided to remain silent, figuring that since he had just returned it was unlikely that he had had the time to find one.  Kyokou studied his face intently.

            "Two days," he said quietly.

            "What?"

            "Two days until your pod to Frieza #93 leaves, so get packing," he repeated in the same calm, surprisingly serious voice.  

            Pazru stared numbly at the other man, not quite able to believe what he was hearing.  Kyokou smiled again.  He stretched, swung his feet to the floor, and bent to retrieve his helmet and scouter.  Yawning, he turned to walk to the door.  

            "Well, Paz, it's been a blast, but I've got to go the pad before I pass out on your couch."  Still pleasantly shocked, Pazru followed him to the door.  Kyokou turned around suddenly and grabbed his upper arm in a tight grip.  "And, Pazru, pack for a long trip.  My advice would be to stay away from Vegetasei as long as possible."

            "Wha…what?"

            Kyokou sighed, glanced nervously at the closed door panel, and walked back to the center of the room, Pazru in tow behind him.  An apprehensive look on his face, he looked the room over again.  He leaned in close to Pazru's face and began to whisper quietly into his ear, his eyes still traveling over the room as if he suspected that they were being watched.  Pazru's eyes widened in shock as he listened intently to his friend's words.

            "So you're saying that he had one of his guards contact the palace saying that they had arrived but he never sent word that he was returning?"

            "Shh, Paz, not so loud," Kyokou replied, waving his hand to indicate a lower volume.  He began to whisper into Pazru's ear again.  

            "Wow!  What does that mean?" Pazru, being careful to keep his voice low, queried.  His friend gave him a troubled look and shook his head in a "I don't know" gesture.  "Do you think that he and the others were….were killed then?"

            "Maybe.  It's hard to say.  He may have forgotten, but it's just not like the king to forego set procedures."  Kyokou's face clouded momentarily and he idly began to chew at one ragged fingernail.  "And the way Frieza had been acting lately towards the Saiyans….well, I don't hold much hope that any member of the envoy, King Vegeta included, survived."

            "But you don't know that for certain," Pazru reassured him as well as himself.  "It could be like you said, he just forgot, or there could have been some malfunction in the pod's communication systems."  

Kyokou's eyebrows rose and he flashed him a skeptical look.  "Not highly likely.  All of the pods would have had to have carried the same malfunction.  Besides, even if all of the communication systems had broken down, the king and his entourage had their scouters with them.  And if those weren't working for some reason and everything was going well with Frieza, you would think that they would have been able to use one of the radios on Frieza's ship to report back to the palace. "  Pazru nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Yeah, but you can't just assume that Frieza would resort to killing the king and his guards.  Wouldn't it be disastrous for him if the Saiyans rebelled against him?"

"Ummm."  Kyokou began biting his nails again.  "I would guess no, but it's hard to say."

Pazru laughed uneasily.  "I think that you're so exhausted you've become paranoid."

"Well it must be catching, because I'm not the only one who is making plans to leave this miserable rock."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but the good doctor has been making some hasty flight arrangements lately."

Pazru looked at him confusedly and scratched at his head.  "Who? Scleren?  He has been awfully busy lately, but I don't think that he has been trying to charter a pod."

"Think again, Paz," Kyokou countered as he positioned the scouter over his left eye.  The dark green lens flashed as the overhead lights struck it.  "He chartered two pods (I'm figuring that one of them is for you) a little over a week ago."  He grunted in concentration as he twisted the tiny knobs on the earpiece of the scouter to firmly affix it to his ear.  As an afterthought he added, "Plenthor and a few others have also scheduled flights."

Pazru bite his lip and stared off to the side in thought.   He had known that Scleren was concerned about Frieza's possible feelings toward Vegetasei, but he wouldn't have expected the man to have gone ahead and planned to leave the planet.  The fact that he had also chartered a pod for him was rather touching, but Pazru was a little disturbed that Scleren hadn't mentioned  anything about it to him.  

"Don't think about it too much."  Kyokou pressed the small button on the wall next to the door panel.  The panel slid open and he stepped out into the corridor, pulling his helmet down over his head as he did so.  "For all I know, nothing will happen.  King Vegeta and his brat of a son could return the day after tomorrow without a scratch on 'em.  If I were you, though, I would still keep my eyes open to anything out of the ordinary."  With that, he turned and darted down the hallway in the direction of the pod landing and departure area.  Pazru stared after him, a worried look on his face.

Author's Note:     I hope you all remember King Vegeta going to visit Frieza, right? I realize that this event probably happened long before Vegetasei was destroyed, but it makes for some more drama in the story.  Besides, I've already taken enough liberties with the original plotline as it is (Turles and Goku being twins, for example).  One more couldn't hurt, could it? *^_^*

_P.S.—Keep those reviews coming!  _

       __


	9. Part 1 Chap9

**Chapter 9******

            Malacca stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly.  There was an audible series of cracks and pops as he flexed his interlaced fingers and he grimaced at the sound.  He really wished that Plenthor had not volunteered him for this task.   Not only was it far below his level of skill, it was tedious and time-consuming.  Malacca heaved an irritated sigh and leaned backward onto his hands, being careful not to upset the keyboard balanced precariously on his lap.  Hundreds of wires of all different sizes and colors snaked from various pieces of equipment in a seemingly disordered jumble around him.  A small monitor lay on the floor in front of him, its outer casing removed.  Most of the cords exploded in a twisted confusion from the open monitor.  His eyes picked out a thick black wire from and traced it up the wall next to the door panel of the nursery supply room to its source: the locking system. 

            He had really come to hate that little box.  Whoever had done the initial programming must have been a complete idiot.  The locking system was easy to use, but its records were extremely difficult to access and find.  After his first inspection of the system, Malacca had come to the conclusion that this would be a one to two hour job.  That had been early yesterday evening.  It was currently midmorning and here he was, still pouring through the same incredibly long and complicated lists of files and data with no end in sight.  Wiggling his fingers to loosen them, Malacca hunched back over the monitor sitting before him and began to rapidly type in a series of commands.  

            There had been plenty of interruptions since he had started working yesterday.  Apparently one of the Saiyan babies ("_Bardock's kid maybe?_" Malacca wondered to himself) was going to be sent on his first mission.  Malacca hadn't spent much time in this section of the med-center and hence wasn't familiar with normal nursery procedures, but he assumed that launch preparations were usually fairly uncomplicated; however, Pazru had apparently been put in charge of orchestrating the effort and consequently things had gotten bungled up.  There had been nursery attendants running hurriedly in and out of the supply room for one thing or another, often tripping over the maze of cords snaking across the floor.  The frequent use of the locking system and the disturbance of the connections made Malacca's computer reset several times, losing all data in the process, and he had had to start over at least twice.  Thankfully he had only come in on the tail end of the mayhem or else the recurrent interruptions would have driven him nearly insane and rendered his task impossible to complete.  Pazru had declared an end to that day's work about two or three hours after Malacca had arrived.  Things had calmed down considerably since then, and Malacca had been able to accomplish much in the deathly quiet hours between sunset and dawn.  

He had known intuitively when he had first met Pazru that the boy was not suited for leadership tasks.  He was awkward and shy around other people and lacked the conviction and the power to give orders and have them carried out.  Pazru may have the natural talent and the training needed to become a doctor, but it was plainly obvious to Malacca that he would never get very far beyond that.  Malacca's fingers, a dark green blur over the keyboard, slowed momentarily.  A harsh bark of laughter issued from his throat and his fingers resumed their breakneck speed.   

A new list of files (hard to tell which day's list of access codes in all the mess of them) popped up on the screen.  An eager—not to mention relieved—look crossed Malacca's scaly features and he began to look through the lists of data.  Unaware of his actions, he leaned forwards until his nose was just inches from the screen.  These were the files that Scleren wanted.  

"Thank Kami," he muttered under his breath.  He scrolled down the screen, checking to make sure that all of the correct files were in place.  Yes, yes.  There were the records for two weeks ago, and there, yesterday's log of entry codes.  

"Sir?"  Malacca didn't give any indication that he had heard, and the woman took another step into the room.  "Excuse me, sir?"  Malacca grunted and she took that to be a sign that he registered her presence.  "Sir, I have the food you ordered, I'll…I'll just leave it here."  Stepping carefully so as not to disturb any of the wires, she placed a small, carefully wrapped bundle at his side, within reach if he wanted it.  Still transfixed with what was displayed on the screen, Malacca nodded dazedly and grunted in thanks.  

All of a sudden he thrust his fists up in the air and crowed in mingled exultation and relief.  The woman cried out in shock and turned to stare at the source of the noise.  In her distraction, she tripped over one of the thicker cords and landed flat on her face.  The picture on the monitor began to flicker and Malacca immediately quieted, a look of dull horror crossing his features.  The screen flickered once more then steadied.  Malacca sighed in relief and shot an irritated look at the woman sprawled on the floor.  With another cry, she pulled herself to her feet and shot out of the room.  Malacca rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen.  The corner of his mouth crooked up in a victorious grin and he sat back on his hands and stared contentedly at it.  His fingers brushed the wrapped food and he stared at it in confusion.   Eyes narrowing slightly, he glanced quickly at the closed door through which the frightened woman had left.  Shrugging dismissively, Malacca pulled the sandwich out of the paper.  His sharp teeth bit down hard into the toasted bread and with a jerk of his head, he ripped a large chunk from the sandwich.  Jaw working furiously, he stared at the files on the screen, taking a second to gloat over his computer prowess before swallowing.  

Last month's lists of entry codes (complete with time of entry), all right here in front of his very eyes.  Malacca took another bite from the sandwich and arranged all of records in chronological order, made a copy of that, and then rearranged the copy so that the most frequently used access code would be on top of the list.  Scleren was right after all: someone had been in the nursery storeroom quite frequently in the past few weeks.  That may or may not be conclusive evidence that this particular person was the thief—he or she could just be an attendant who was frequently on call—but the fact that the majority of the time it was either late night or early morning when the code was keyed in suggested that the individual was trying to hide something.  

Malacca's grin stretched even wider; he just loved a good scandal.  Perhaps it wasn't just one person but two who were having a sordid little affair and using the supply room as a meeting place.   Malacca suppressed the giddy flush that threatened to rise on his cheeks.  He almost wished that that was the case; it would make for some excellent gossip.  However, Scleren had said that things had been coming up missing, so that just about completely ruled out that thought.  Malacca shook himself from his thoughts.  Sitting here and daydreaming (no matter how pleasant the dreams were) would get him nowhere.  

Moving with the speed and agility that only the best in his line of work could master, he whipped a small disc from his tunic pocket and popped it into the small tray that extended out from the side of the monitor.  He pushed the tray back in and began to copy his finds onto the disc.  The hum of the machinery crescendoed until almost all other sounds were completely blocked out, and then slowed.  The tray slid back out and Malacca pocketed the disc.  He handled it carefully, as if he was worried it would shatter into a million pieces.   Severing the main connection with one hard tug on the thick power cable running from the back of the monitor, Malacca stood and headed for the door.  He would send someone to clean up the rest of the equipment later.  Right now, he wanted to get the disc down to Scleren as quickly as possible.  Not only did he want to put an end to this menial task, he wanted to know who the thief was.  Lightly patting the lump in his tunic where the disc was encased, Malacca chuckled and trotted out to find Scleren.  

He didn't have to walk far at all.  The old doctor was in one of the delivery rooms fiddling with the computer panel.  _"Perfect," _Malacca thought with a smile as he strolled over to the other man's side.  

"Confounding lump of junk!" Scleren bellowed angrily.  He brought his fist down hard on the smooth top of the panel, with no results.  Malacca cleared his throat loudly.  

"What is it?" he growled, not turning around.

"Sir, I have the data you requested."

"Not now, I'm busy."  He pounded on the keyboard this time, and brightly flashing error messages began to fly up all over the display.   "No, no no!  You stupid, son of a—"  

A faintly superior smile on his face, Malacca leaned forward, reached in past Scleren, and lightly tapped one faintly glowing key.  The error messages disappeared.  Scleren, not quite believing his eyes, leaned forward and blinked.  

"How…how did you do that?" All traces of anger gone from his voice, he turned around to thank whoever had helped him.  Faint shock registered on his features when he realized it was Malacca who had rendered the assistance.  A broad smile spread across the old doctor's face and he briskly pumped the technician's hand.    "Malacca!  Well met, indeed."  He nodded in the direction of the panel.  "Ever since they switched over to the new system I've had such troubles getting the damn thing to work."

Malacca nodded in appreciation.  "No problem, Scleren."

There was an uncomfortable silence, neither man knowing what to say.  Finally, Scleren, tucking an errant strand of blue-white hair behind one of his ears, asked, "So, what can I do you for you today, Malacca?"  He didn't want to ask the technician straight out about the situation of the locking system.  He wasn't too eager to discover who the thief was.  It would mean that he would have to turn the miserable person into the authorities.  He really didn't want to do that.  He had handpicked each and every one of his employees and was not eager to, even indirectly, inflict pain on any of them.  

Scleren rubbed the bridge of his nose in anxiety.  "So, Malacca, what did you find?" he asked halfheartedly, hoping to whatever powers that be that the whole thing would all turn out to be some big glitch on the computer's part. Malacca grinned and pulled a small, circular disc from one of his pockets.  He casually tossed it onto the now blank computer panel.  Scleren's eyes followed the motion with barely disguised dread, twitching slightly when the disk hit the surface with a soft plap.   He picked the disk up between finger and thumb and held it up before his face as if it were some vile piece of garbage.  He hated it.  He wanted nothing more than to snap the disk into pieces beneath one of his shoes.  Better yet, he could break it, burn it, and then sink the still smoldering ashes to the bottom of lake Saladas, Vegetasei's largest and deepest body of water.  

He set the disk back down on the panel and hurriedly pulled his hands behind his back.  At the moment, he didn't entirely trust his fingers to do exactly what they wanted and destroy the disk.  

"Sir?"  Malacca raised an eyebrow in question.  "Aren't you going to check the contents?"

"Of course I am," Scleren grunted in mock irritation.  Moving as quickly as possible so as to minimize the amount of contact he would have with the disk, the doctor popped it into the computer.  He opened it and scrolled down the list, Malacca eagerly craning his head around the wide shoulder-pads of his tunic.  Scleren's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Well?" he asked Malacca expectantly.  

"Well what?"

"Who did it?"

"Did what?"

Scleren sighed in irritation.  "Who has been stealing from my supply cabinet?"  

"I don't know," the other man said, shrugging his shoulders.  He returned to gazing hungrily at the screen.  Scleren pushed himself away from the panel, crossed his arms over his chest, and leveled Malacca with an aggravated look.

"I asked for this to be done almost a week ago.  Now, Malacca, I know you've been very busy, but what exactly have you been doing these past few days if not working on the locking system?"

Malacca blinked at him.  Realization suddenly flooded his scaly features.

"It's all here, Scleren."  He put his hands up in an apologetic gesture and then motioned towards the list on the computer screen.  "See?  All that needs to be done now is for the codes to be matched up to the employee."

"Well, why don't you do that then?" Scleren, not convinced, interjected irritably.

"I can't."  Scleren's features darkened and the technician struggled to finish. "You're the only one who has all of the nursery employee codes."  To Malacca's relief, Scleren's anger abated, replaced instead by a troubled expression.  

"I have the codes do I?"  Malacca nodded eagerly and waited for Scleren to return to the panel.  He did so after a moment of thought, his brow creased with worry.  

"You can go now," he murmured quietly.  When Malacca didn't respond to the order, Scleren turned to him and patted him on the shoulder.  "I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do, Malacca, so I won't take your time."  Malacca looked crestfallen but complied, trudging slowly out of the room.  Scleren watched until he saw the panel slide closed and then turned back to the screen.  He punched in his access code, which would allow him access to all private files, and then opened the list of codes and names of employees to which they belonged.  He arranged the file that Malacca had given him so that it lay adjacent to that with the code identifications and began the long and tiresome job of matching codes to names.  

Several hours later, and he had it completed.  He had come to the decision long ago that the person responsible for the theft would most likely be one of the more questionable members of his staff.  If so, he wouldn't feel as horrible for turning them in then if it was one of his more trustworthy employees.  Just matching the code with the person to whom it belonged was helpful, but didn't give him much certainty as to the identity of the thief.  After all, rotations and the number of babies in the nursery would drastically raise or lower the amount of times an employee entered the supply room.  It wasn't until he had compared the time of entry to the current rotation schedule that he was absolutely positive of the thief's identity.

Scleren rubbed at his eyes.  They were grainy and itchy from long hours spent staring at the monitor.  His vision swam briefly with colorful spots at the pressure and he waited for them to clear.  Blinking to clear away the last afterimages, he restudied the results on the screen.  

"Damnit," he growled. He slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair in anger and frustration and then pushed himself to his feet.  He had come to grips with the fact that one of his own was stealing supplies out from under his nose, but he had had no way of preparing himself for the shock that would come.  "Kami!  Why?!  Tell me why, damnit!"  His clenched fists drummed on the arms of the chair and his hair began to fall from his topknot in bluish-white clumps.  There was no way that he could have been so blind, that someone so innocent and trustworthy could have been involved with such petty theft.  Scleren believed himself to be a fairly good judge of character.  From what he had gathered from the files Malacca had given him, he apparently wasn't as good as he had thought.

"Damnit.  Why him?  Why?"  His voice quieted to a whisper and he bent over and rested his head on the back of his chair.  He stood like this for a few minutes, mulling over this latest shock (there seemed to be so many lately), then stood and left the room. The locking system couldn't lie, but it could be tampered with.  Therefore, the only way to assure the identity of the thief would be to follow him around for the next night or two, however long it took to catch him in the act.  What happened then was anybodies' guess.  

Scleren took a deep breath to steady himself then started to walk determinedly down the hallway.  He hoped to everything that was good and holy that someone had tampered with the system.  

*** Many thanks for reviews!  I am back!  Anyway, I thought I would go ahead and post this chapter.  I'm psyched because this first part is finally nearing its ending.  Also, I wanted your feedback on a possible TurlesxOritsu lemon.  Actually, I've already written the lemon (;P), I'm just not sure whether I should post an R-rated version that will be a part of the regular Power Struggle fic and add the full, dirty ;P version as a separate piece, or if I should just scrap the whole thing.  Give me some input, and I may consider posting the lemon ahead of schedule for your reading pleasure!

--Oritsu


	10. Part1 Chap10

Chapter 10   
"Mo! Mo! Mo!" Tiny fists pounded on the floor in indignation.   
"No, I'm sorry, but I don't have anymore!" Pazru quickly stepped aside, an airborne teething ring just barely grazing one of his cheeks. At his feet, the baby began to caterwaul loudly, tears pouring down his flushed face. The corner of Pazru's mouthed curved down in a frown as he observed the temper tantrum. This was not a good development at all. Ever since the harrowing vision he and the baby had shared yesterday the child had been acting oddly, uninterested in play, crying often, unable to sleep. And now he here he was, lying on the floor screaming so loud that Pazru was surprised that the whole complex hadn't rushed in to see what all the noise was about.   
Pazru kneeled and gently laid a hand on the child's heaving shoulders. The baby stiffened immediately and darted away from his caretaker, a low growl rising in his throat.   
"Mo!" he demanded.   
"I told you, I'm all out of food bars right now. If you can wait a little bit, I'll run back down to the mess hall and grab some more," Pazru replied, his hands outspread in a placating gesture. The Saiyan's face clouded, the rumbling in his throat increasing in volume.   
"No! Mo!" he barked, tail lashing angrily behind him.   
"Alright. Alright. Just come here and I'll take care of it." Pazru inched forward a bit and reached out to pluck the child from the ground. He was instantly thrown backward onto the hard floor as the Saiyan infant hurtled into his chest and jumped up onto a nearby countertop. The wind knocked out of him, Pazru struggled to his feet, and gaped at the baby, who was scowling at him and readying to pounce again. "What's your problem? You know I can't leave and get you more food unless I put you back in there," he said raggedly, gesturing towards the open bassinet. Gleaming black eyes followed the young man's hand, narrowing suspiciously when the child realized what he wanted to do. With an angry shout, he darted on all fours to the opposite end of the room. Pazru sighed wearily and rose to his feet.   
"Now come here. I won't hurt you," Pazru pleaded as he crept slowly to the back of the room. The child met his eyes, hesitating slightly. Pazru stopped several feet from the infant and lowered himself to the ground in a crouch. "It's okay," he cooed quietly. "You know me, right? I'm the only one here you can trust for a meal, kid." The child lowered himself to the ground, ready to run if necessary, but some of the fierceness had drained from his features. "That's right, I don't mean you any harm," Pazru said encouragingly, his hands beckoning the baby to come to him. He advanced slowly, repeating more of the same, gentle platitudes, and was pleased when the tiny Saiyan allowed him to lay a hand on top of his head. Pazru ruffled the sleek, spiky mass of hair, then scooted closer so that he sat in front of the infant. The child, still looking unsure, slowly sat back on his haunches and leaned into the Orange Man's caress. He inhaled deeply then relaxed, tiny tail coming to rest around his waist. The Orange Man reached out and scooped him into his lap; the warmth and closeness was comforting, and the baby wriggled as close to his caretaker as possible. There was a great pain in his head, right behind his eyes, that began to pound each time he saw the strange images. Those were frightening enough, but that inexplicable pain and the feeling that something was squeezing something deep in his chest, making it hard for him to breath, was downright terrifying. Warm, soft, long-fingered hands slid reassuringly up and down his back and he sighed resignedly. The soft rise and fall of the Orange Man's voice somewhere above him was distantly soothing, and the child began to feel drowsy. His eyelids fluttered, then slid shut, his jaw falling slack and his tail loosening its grip around his waist. White. Red. Flying hunks of black and brown coming towards him. His brother. The man. Wait a minute, the man looked like his brother, looked like him. Who was this man? Red, lots of red, all over the other people. There were three people, one who was fat and had hair on his face, another that was very large and muscular with hair only on the sides of his head, and a small person with delicate features. Why weren't they moving? The Look-alike Man looked at those people and he was angry. Angry and sad. Suddenly there was another man, covered in red but moving. He talked to the Look-alike Man then stopped moving. White. Blindness. Pain. More of the red. Something was coming closer. Something that was big and dangerous. It came closer and closer. Suddenly, brilliant yellow-white light exploded across his vision; he felt his body burning. Someone was screaming. Pazru's scream reverberated in the small back room, sounding over the child's more muffled cry. Muffled because he had his teeth imbedded in the soft stretch of flesh between Pazru's thumb and index finger. Shaking with pain and shock, Pazru gazed numbly down at his injured hand and the Saiyan who was firmly attached to it. Blood began to well up in the bite, and oblivious to everything except the sight of the blood, his blood, seeping from his body and the fear of serious injury, Pazru jerked his limb away. It came back easily, the child releasing him immediately and looking blank, as if he had just woke up from a nap or a deep trance. The Saiyan blinked a few times, wide, stricken eyes rolling around the room aimlessly. He opened and closed his mouth, licking away the blood on his lips and teeth, completely unaware of the bitter taste in his mouth. A shudder worked its way up his small back, the child's eyes rolled back to the whites, and he flopped gracelessly over onto his side. The press of dead weight on his ankles brought Pazru's attention back to his charge. A small cry of fear escaping his lips, he scooped the child up into his arms and began a frenzied examination of the tiny body, his injury forgotten for the moment. Skilled fingers in rapid motion immediately confirmed the presence of a heartbeat and breath, and feeling somewhat relieved, Pazru set about trying to rouse the lifeless baby in his arms, only to discover that he was out cold. Worry lines creased his brow as he rose to his feet and walked over to the bassinet. He pulled a blanket up over the child's body, one hand lingering to smooth back the soft black hair. He hesitated at the door, eyes drawn to the motionless figure lying in the bassinet. "Come on, Pazru! This isn't your fault!" He frowned at the thought and took a step back towards the bassinet. He had wanted the child to calm down so that he could leave, but this....he hadn't wanted this, anything even close to this to happen. Reason confirmed that he couldn't have possibly have caused the child to swoon by thought alone, but that didn't stop him from feeling somewhat guilty. Pazru sighed, switched off the lights, and left the room. Lost in thought, he began his trek back to his quarters, oblivious to the figure that emerged from the shadows of a nearby corridor and entered the room.   
  
  
"Departure is in 2 hours. What's our status?"   
"The pod is programmed and ready to go, sir."   
"And Kakarot?"   
"Sedated."   
"Good. Keep me up to date on any changes."   
"Yes sir."   
Pazru leaned back in his seat and massaged his temples. Only 2 hours left until Kakarot was sent off to Chikyuusei for his first planet clearing, which was a great relief to the entire nursery staff as he had grown rather combative as of late. An attendant walked sullenly past him, a large, lumpy bruise purpling and swelling across one side of his face, a mangled hypodermic needle rocking back and forth on the small metal tray resting in his hands. He shot Pazru an annoyed glance as he passed on his way to the incinerator. Pazru pointed to his bandaged right hand and gave an indifferent shrug.   
Data scrolled across the screen of the computer panel at his right and he glanced at it periodically, keeping a close eye on the current weather conditions and traffic at the pod zone. So far all was clear. Pazru let his eyes wander around the nursery, taking in all the activity with a detached air. He figured that the next time he saw Scleren he would thank him. Being in charge of Kakarot's launch had been a difficult task at first, the past two days being particularly busy. But now he was able to just sit back, relax, and give direction. He was able to monitor all activity both here in the nursery as well as in the pod zone, which would greatly benefit him in just under an hour and a half, when he was planning on slipping out to grab the other baby. Shortly after little Kakarot's journey began, a second pod bearing his twin would be making its final launch preparations. Pazru thanked Kyokou under his breath for his good- timing concerning the departure schedules.   
"Sir?"   
Pazru looked up from the blinking monitor. Moira stood before him, a small rectangular box in her hand.   
"Did everything go alright?" he asked as he took the box from her.   
"No problems whatsoever, sir," she replied with a small shake of her head.   
Pazru nodded eagerly and flipped the lid of the box open, checked its contents, and closed it again, a pleased smile spreading across his face.   
"Excellent. Thank you so much, Moira, I couldn't have done it without your help."   
She waved dismissively. "Oh it's no problem, sir. I just—"   
"There's no need for formalities. Just call me Pazru."   
Her smile broadened and she crouched and leaned forward, so that they were at eye level. "Well, Pazru, I was just wondering why you would want such a thing. I mean, they're fairly worthless. You could get a much nicer piece somewhere else."   
Giddy with how well his plans were working out, Pazru closed the distance between them, pleased to see a faint blush rise on her cheeks. "Actually, it's a little something for Kyokou. You know how he is. I thought he could give it to one of his girlfriends," he whispered, his eyes sparkling conspiratorially. He winked at her and grinned widely.   
"Oh I see," she whispered back, one hand unconsciously pushing a lock of glossy black hair behind one of her ears. "I can't quite see Kyokou as the family man, but then again he never fails to surprise me."   
"You're telling me." They both laughed, drawing a few eyes from the milling nursery staff. Looking somewhat uncomfortable, Moira straightened and smoothed out her uniform.   
"So, is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked.   
"No. I can't think of anything else at the moment." She nodded and turned to leave, only to be called back by Pazru, who smiled and motioned for her to come closer so that he could whisper into her ear. She complied, listening intently. He finished and she blinked at him a few times, even more confused.   
"Okay. I don't really understand why, but that wouldn't be too difficult," she replied, glancing at him in a confused fashion.   
"Great. Thank you so much, Moira."   
"Sure, no problem," she called back, giving him once last bright smile before leaving. He watched her go, the broad smile on his face fading to a thin line. Lying to her made him feel even worse than he had when he had lied to Scleren and Kyokou. She liked him, no doubt about that, and he was attracted to her as well. If she found out why he really had wanted her to do these little jobs for him she would probably never want to see him again. Then again, if word trickled down to her about what he was about to do, it would probably reach other ears. Ears with the power to lock him away for life or send him to his death. Either way, she would be lost to him. Pazru sighed noisily, glanced at the time displayed on the screen and rose from his seat. This was no time to concern himself with girls. He needed to get moving, or else he would miss the small window of opportunity to grab Kakarot's brother. "Seribu." The bruised attendant looked up at his supervisor apprehensively. Pazru put a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "I noticed you had some difficulties tranquilizing the kid." He nodded to the mangled syringe that lay in the incinerator chamber along with the remains of several other pieces of equipment that Kakarot had managed to destroy. Worry lines snaked across the man's bruised face and he opened his mouth to explain. Pazru silenced him with a finger. "Don't worry about it, I got caught up doing something else and I didn't get to see how you finally managed it." "Oh, sir, I see. Well, I just slipped one of these," Seribu placed a bottle containing a mass of bright blue pills into Pazru's hand, "into a food bar and gave it to the bra--, I mean, child." Pazru laughed heartily and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Good thinking. Well, with Kakarot out in dream-land, things should go a lot faster. Why don't you head down to the infirmary and see if they can patch up that contusion. It looks painful." "Yes, sir!" Looking relieved, Seribu nodded gladly and wove his way through the busy nursery to the door. Pazru scanned the label of the small bottle. Satisfied, he quickly slipped the container into the front pocket of his tunic, making sure that no one saw him. Taking one last look at the data displayed on the computer screen—no problems—he stood and headed across the room towards the door. Pazru laid a hand on the shoulder of a nearby attendant. "I have some personal business that I need to attend to. I should be back before Kakarot is taken down to the pod area, but if I'm not, I would like you to take care of things in my absence. " The woman nodded briskly and returned immediately to her duties. Pazru stepped into the hallway and strode over to one of the windows. Kakarot looked so peaceful lying asleep in his bassinet; it was hard to believe that in a manner of hours he would be set loose upon the unsuspecting inhabitants of some distant planet. A sigh passed his lips as long- repressed, blood-soaked memories clouded his mind. Born strong and ruthless and given no opportunity to be taught basic morals, the Saiyans were truly a fighting force to be reckoned with. Fighting was their past, their present, and their future. If they weren't currently involved in the planet-clearing business, they would probably be picking a war with some other people elsewhere, maybe with their own. He couldn't justify or agree with the endless bloodshed the Saiyans had inflicted throughout their turbulent history, but nor could he deny his own beliefs and allow the deliberate murder of their young. Life was a sacred and precious thing, something he had seen with his own eyes fleeting like a puffed out flame from the bodies of his own people, victims of a planet-clearing several years ago, or from the fatally wounded soldiers rushed into this very infirmary. What a person chose to do with his life was his own business. The Saiyans had chosen to destroy life and just about anything else in their paths; he had chosen to preserve and protect life, regardless of the negative or positive impact that life strove to achieve. Scleren may be capable of shrugging of the life of a young Saiyan baby, his basis of judgment resting on what came natural to the Saiyan race and his own innate desire to keep himself and those he cared for safe, but that was his choice, shaped by his own extensive personal experience both as a doctor and as the victim of a planet-clearing. Pazru realized that the years would probably harden him as well, but it made him feel good to strive for the ideals he held so dear right now. Both of these babies would grow up with the need to fight and kill. Experience and genetics would mold them throughout the years into unique individuals. The shallow whorls and lines of his fingerprints would be imprinted on these lives forever, and the knowledge that he had been given the blessing to touch these lives like this approached something close to bliss for him. It made him feel connected to this world in a way nothing else really could. Maybe it was his own proud, narcissistic attempt at immortality. Perhaps he felt this need for interconnectivity because his race and planet was lost. It was pointless to spend so much time exploring the reasons why. Time. What was the time? Pazru glanced at the timekeeper he had strapped to his wrist this morning and grimaced. He needed to get moving if he wanted to keep to schedule. Taking one last glance at the sleeping baby in the nursery, he set off for the deserted section of the med-center. 


	11. Part1 Chap11

Chapter 11  
  
Scleren stormed through the hallways, his fists clenched at his sides and his expression dark. He was approached by several med-center employees. No words were needed; one look at his murderous icy-blue glare was enough to silence and send them on their way.   
"How dare he," he fumed silently. "I've taken care of him, taught him a trade, given him more of my time and care than his own parents probably did, the poor bastards, and what does he do with it? Throws it all away for a trifle" Scleren growled under his breath as he tore around another corner.   
He had just visited the nursery to follow up on Kakarot's launch. What had he found there? A very well-organized and informed staff who told him that Kakarot had been sent out to the pod zone and that he would be departing within the next half-hour or so. That was the good thing. If Pazru lived to see another day, he would congratulate the kid on carrying out this assignment with such aplomb. The bad thing: Pazru wasn't in the nursery when he got there. According to the attendants Pazru had left on personal business and Scleren had missed him by about 20 minutes or so.   
And Scleren knew exactly where the boy was headed, and he would be damned if he didn't stop this foolishness immediately.   
  
"Target directional coordinates: FX-50. Name: Kakarot." The technician squinted down at the launch briefings displayed on the computer panel and looked back up again at the sleeping Saiyan infant curled up in the pod. "Bardock's son, hmmm?" he mused as he caught sight of the resemblance. His eyes scrolled back down to the panel.   
"Rank: Lowest class warrior. Planet of destination: Chikyuusei." He nodded as he confirmed each piece of information.   
"Looks like everything matches up; this one's all ready to go," he said to no one in particular. Perusing the briefings one last time (it never hurt to be thorough), he began to rapidly key in the launch codes. The hatch of the pod slowly closed and the pod slid back into the hollow t of the launch pad. The door to the pipe fell with a bang and a furious stream of cloud blew from two exhaust panels on its surface as the air was forcefully pulled from the tube. There was a muffled explosion from inside as the pod was shot from the pad.   
"Good luck, little one," the technician whispered.   
  
  
  
"What's the matter, Bardock?"   
The Saiyan leaned back against his pod, panting loudly. Kyokou looked him up and down, taking in the cracked, misshapen remains of his armor, the shreds of his clothing, and the dried blood crusted over his body like some sort of second skin. "Man," he thought to himself, "when Bardock is given an assignment, he goes all out. Look at him, he didn't even care to try to wipe off the blood!" He shook his head ruefully. "What a shame, you just missed your kid's launch!" he said. Not even bothering to answer, Bardock lurched past Kyokou and his partner. Unperturbed, Kyokou continued, "As I remember, he's going to some frontier planet called Chikyuusei." Bardock paused and looked back at him. "Did you say 'Chikyuu'?" Kyokou broke out into a smile. "Yeah, it's a blue planet, part of a star system. He may be a low class warrior, but give him a few months and he's sure to wipe out the planet. Once you've recovered from those injuries, you ought to go meet up with him." The Saiyan stared blankly back at him, still panting. Kyokou cocked his head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "So what happened to you? How did a guy like you get beat up so badly? I thought you went to Meatsei, didn't you? But that was supposed to be a really simple planet. Did the techs confuse the specs? And where are Toma and the others?" Bardock was focused on some point beyond the pod attendants' shoulders. Kyokou frowned. Something wasn't right here. The Saiyan wasn't listening to a word he said. That wasn't saying much; it was a common reaction and didn't really bother Kyokou, but the way Bardock was staring off all glazed eyed like that...it was almost like he was...he was... Kyokou's train of thought was broken as the Saiyan suddenly gasped and darted off down the tunnel that would lead him into the complex. "What's the matter, Bardock?" he shouted after the fleeing man. "Hey! Look at this!" his partner shouted from behind him. "He's far from all right, wouldn't you say?" Feeling the first worms of unease threading through his guts Kyokou approached the abandoned pod. The seat was covered in shiny tracks and puddles of blood. Hand shaking ever so slightly, Kyokou reached inside and touched one gloved hand to the substance. Instead of flaking away, it clung to his hands, a few drops falling away to the ground. "This blood is fresh," he thought as he rubbed the tacky fluid between his thumb and index finger. "And so much of it too. If he's been bleeding like this for the whole trip back then he—" "Kyokou! Isn't that...?" The man pointed to the sky. A pale shadow drifted over him and Kyokou looked up. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he caught sight of the massive shape approaching the planet. "It couldn't be. What reason does he have to come here, and now of all times?"   
  
  
"Sir? Oh, sir?" Scleren ignored the voice as he stalked down the corridor. There was a tug on his sleeve and he abruptly stopped and turned back, staring fiercely at the person who would dare touch him in when he was in this state. "Dr. Scleren?" she asked tentatively. "Yes, what is it, Moreena?" "It's Moira, sir. And I just—" "Whatever." Disconcerted, but no less determined, she did not relinquish her grip on his sleeve. "Ummm, sir, I have some questions for you." "Not now, I'm busy at the moment. Why don't you go and talk to Plenthor, he's your supervisor is he not?" Scleren replied irritably as he stared longingly down the hallway in the direction he intended to go. "Yes, but he told me to ask you about this." "I'm sorry, Moira, but I really don't have the time to—" "It's about Pazru." Interest sparked, Scleren sharply turned his head to look down at the young woman standing before him. "What about Pazru?"   
  
  
Pazru rolled his shoulders and rounded out his back in an attempt to ease the throbbing pain that was quickly growing at the base of his spine. He pressed one hand to the bulging midsection of his lab tunic and lifted it upwards, trying to shift some of the weight off of his aching back. A few beads of sweat rolled down his face as he walked as fast as was possible towards the pod zone. He paused at an intersection, unsure of which path to take. The corridors were identical, stretching endlessly onward in each direction with no markers or signs as to where each led. He gritted his teeth. There wasn't much time left and he had gotten lost and had to backtrack twice now. He had spent so much time perfecting his plan but had somehow neglected to familiarize himself with the route to the pod zone. Time was of the essence here; he wasn't sure how long Kyokou could hold the pod for him. Adding to this burden was the child, no pun intended. Pazru interlaced his fingers and cradled the dead weight of the infant hidden beneath his clothing. Now that he thought about it, the tiny Saiyan had grown considerably since he had been born. Another factor that he had failed to consider in his plan. "The good thing about this is that the kid is unconscious. It would have been impossible to have smuggled him, awake, all the way to the pod zone. No way. Not only would he have made a racket, but he probably would have struggled like mad." The side of Pazru's mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. Things weren't going as badly as they could be, at least. But he needed to focus on the problem at hand: finding his way to the departure area. He scanned the hallways again, trying to picture the map he had drawn out several nights before. He could simply pull it out of his pocket and look at it, but that would also mean that he would have to undo the sling that he had constructed to bear the child, and that would mean risking the chance that someone might walk by and catch sight of the kid. After some deliberation, he decided to head down the corridor directly in front of him. Luck was with him this time, and after a short amount of time the gateway to the pod zone came into view. "Pazru!" Kyokou ran up to meet him as he entered the departure area, worry written all over his face. "You're late, man!" he chided. "I can't stay for very long. My schedule got changed so I was stuck working arrivals today, so I had to sneak away to come here. Paz, you wouldn't believe what I saw!" he blurted, voice flush with an uncharacteristic note of panic. Pazru gave him a strained smile. "I'm sorry I'm late. I got a little lost on the way down here." Spying a pod lying open on the opposite end of the large room, he asked, "Is that it?" Kyokou nodded vigorously. "Yeah, it's all ready for you, Paz, all ready to go. But, Paz, you need to listen to me! I just saw—" "Pazru!" Startled, Pazru whipped around to look at the owner of the voice. Eyes widening in shock, he nearly completely lost his hold on both the baby and his bladder. Scleren stood in the doorway, staring menacingly at him. Moira peeked out from behind his shoulder and shot Pazru an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Pazru, but I couldn't stop him," she said, eyes welling with tears. Catching sight of the open pod, she looked from it to him, stricken. "Pazru, are you leaving Vegetasei?" Pazru opened his mouth to explain but was cut off by Scleren, who quickly closed the distance between them. "All right, let me see him!" he growled. "I...what are you talking about?" Pazru replied as innocently as he possibly could. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Pazru," he said and poked at the bulge in the younger man's midsection. "I want to see that baby." "Baby?!" Kyokou and Moira cried out in unison. Pazru gulped and sunk to the ground. Miserable, he roasted under the gaze of the three of them for what seemed like hours as his shaking fingers struggled to undo the knots holding the makeshift sling together. He pulled back the hem of his tunic. Kyokou and Moira gasped loudly as they caught sight of the unconscious Saiyan infant. "Pazru? What's going on here?" Kyokou asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion. Moira stood silently behind Scleren, one hand pressed to her mouth, her head shaking from side to side. Scleren simply glanced at the child and nodded. "Put the baby in the pod," he said. Pazru blinked up at his mentor from his seat on the floor. "What?" "You heard me," Scleren replied quietly, his eyes focused intently on his young student. "You've gone through so much trouble for this brat. Finish what you've started. Pazru stared back at him in shock. Scleren's eyes narrowed and he frowned. "Well, what are you waiting for? Do as I say!" "Yes...yes sir," Pazru mumbled and tentatively scooped the child from the floor and headed towards the open pod, glancing back once at Scleren, who simply waved him on. "You." Scleren leveled his gaze at Kyokou, who was still staring google- eyed at Pazru and the infant. "Don't you have a job to do?" the doctor said calmly. Kyokou stared at him momentarily in a confused fashion, then nodded and headed off to the observation platform and the main computer panel. Scleren strode over to the pod, Moira following him slowly. "You'll need to situate him so that the needle will hit him correctly," he directed. "But he's already sedated," Pazru replied. "How long will it take this pod to get to wherever it is going," Scleren said loudly, addressing Kyokou, who quickly began to scan through the launch briefings. "Ummm, about three and a half days," Kyokou shouted back. Scleren sighed. "You didn't honestly think that you could keep this kid unconscious for that long with just a single pill, did you Pazru?" The young man shook his head and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, avoiding the old doctor's eyes. Scleren turned back to look at Kyokou again. "I assume that you have reassessed the situation and changed the settings on the cryo-sleep program?" he queried. "Yessir, it's all set and ready to go." Scleren nodded and gently placed a hand on Pazru's shoulder. Pazru stopped fussing with the sleeping baby and looked up at him, a mixture of fear and sadness in his eyes. "Scleren, I'm—," he began to say but was interrupted by the doctor, who smiled amicably and patted his shoulder. "It's alright, Pazru. I understand. Your intent was good. In fact, I'm rather impressed that you managed to juggle this with all of your other assignments. You're going to make a fine doctor someday." Pazru gaped, then smiled slowly and nodded gratefully. "Is he ready to go, Paz?" Kyokou called. "Uhhhhh, no wait, Kyokou!" Pazru shouted. "There's one more thing I need to do!" He began to rummage quickly through his pockets, finally coming up with the box that Moira had given him barely an hour before. "Here it is," he said to no one in particular, holding the box up before him triumphantly. Flipping the lid open, he fished out a small object. The silver nametag glittered under the harsh light of the pod departure zone. Hearing Moira's tiny gasp, Pazru gave her a remorseful smile. "I'm sorry that I lied to you," he said quietly. She looked away from him and sighed. "I understand now," she replied. Pazru nodded and turned his attention back to the pod and its tiny occupant. Stretching the small bracelet out in his fingers, he deftly slid it over the infant's hand and onto his wrist. The name inscribed on the flat surface of the tag stood out boldly. "Turles," Pazru whispered. "No one gave you a name when you were born, so I'm giving you one of my own. It's not Saiyan, but it's still a good name. In my language, it is a word that denotes strength and determination." "It suits him," Scleren said quietly from behind Pazru, "as well as his caretaker." Pazru beamed happily and leaned in to ruffle the child's hair. "All I wish for you, Turles, is that you grow big and strong and determined to thrive. What you choose to do with you life I leave solely up to you. You are not bound to any morals, any rules, not even to the cultural bonds of your Saiyan heritage. Unlimited possibility lies before you; make the most of it." Pazru smoothed back a few errant strands of Turles' hair and stood back and regarded his young charge. Turles stirred slightly, a small moan escaping his lips, then quieted again. Pazru backed slowly away from the pod, Scleren following suit, to stand near Moira. He turned to look up at Kyokou who nodded and began to read off the launch briefings. "Target directional coordinates: FS-93. Name: Turles. Rank," Kyokou glanced down at Pazru then back at the briefings, "None." Pazru smiled warmly at his friend. "Planet of destination: Charenjisei." Kyokou keyed in the launch codes slowly and carefully. Pazru's smile thinned somewhat as the hatch closed. He barely felt the prick of hot tears as they welled in his eyes to spill down his cheeks. Warm fingers entwined in his and he looked down to see Moira at his side, her eyes sympathetic and her smile soft. The door to the launch tube fell shut, air hissing from the exhaust vents. He squeezed her hand tightly as the pod was launched up through the tube, it's occupant on his way to a new challenge, a new life. Feeling pressure on his shoulder, he looked to his other side, at Scleren, who hugged him close and nodded in silent assurance. Kyokou leapt from the observation platform to join the other three. "So he's on his way," he murmured as he stared at the empty launch pad. "The little guy should do real well on Charenji; it's a great planet." Pazru sighed happily. "Charenji," Moira echoed. "It has a nice sound to it." "So what were you going to tell me earlier, Kyokou?" Pazru asked. The other man's serene expression suddenly faded and he turned away from the others. "I saw Frieza's ship arriving in Vegetasei airspace about a half an hour ago." Scleren stiffened and turned to stare at the attendant, the blood running from his face. "And?" Kyokou began to reply, but was nearly thrown to the floor as a vast earthquake shook the complex. Moira cried out and clung to Pazru for support. Scleren fell against the side of the platform and held tightly to its side. A series of loud squawkings, bits and pieces of shouting voices, issued from the scouter embedded in Kyokou's helmet. Kyokou's eyes widened, his mouth falling open as he listened to the words flying back and forth on the channel. Scleren, Pazru, and Moira stared at him fearfully. "What's going on, Kyokou?" Pazru whispered. Kyokou swallowed loudly. "A fight broke out a little while ago in one of the Saiyan cafeterias. It was Bardock. He was saying crazy things. Like how Frieza had betrayed the Saiyans and was planning on destroying them." Scleren's eyes widened and he grabbed the startled man by the shoulders and shook him. "What was that just now?" Kyokou's eyes shifted to the side as he concentrated on the garbled bits of conversation coming through the scouter's com-link. "Bardock...Bardock left to challenge Frieza. Alone. He's fighting right now." Scleren dropped the attendant and climbed to the top of the platform with a speed and agility most his age could muster. He fiddled with the computer panel for a few seconds, bringing up a large screen that was projected onto the far wall showing a view outside the complex. Clusters of towers and antennae as well as the distant outlines of trees and the glimmer of a small lake rose from the red soil. The sky was a riot of light and color, the silhouettes of several hundred warriors cast into sharp relief by the fierce white light of a small sun. Scleren blinked. "Oh, Kami," he murmured. That was no sun. It was growing steadily. That was a massive, massive amount of ki. He could feel it already, pricking up the hairs on his arms, sending a small shockwave up and down his spine. And what was that shadow behind it? Another earthquake, stronger this time, rocked the room. Pazru and Moira were thrown to the floor and Scleren was forced to his knees. He regained his footing and squinted at the image. That shadow. It was a ship. "Frieza's ship," Kyokou whispered. Pazru and Moira stared at him in horror. "Scleren," Pazru shouted, "what is that thing?" As the words left his lips the diameter of the object in question suddenly doubled, tripled, approaching rapidly. Scleren looked down at his pupil, his lips pressed tightly together. "I'm proud of you, Pazru," he said. Another earthquake began, steadily intensifying as the massive ball of ki approached. "You have excelled beyond me in everything; you're courage is a match for any warrior's." The screen was consumed with blinding white light. Pazru, one hand over his eyes, squinted to see the form of his mentor. "What you have done today," Scleren shouted over the increasing sound of the tremors, "will have reverberations throughout the universe." "Scleren!" Pazru shouted as the room was consumed in white flame.   
  
  
"Leader?"   
"Yes?" came the reply from the lone figure standing on the ship's bridge.   
"I just found a strange energy signal. It seems to have originated somewhere in the Vegeta System."   
"Vegeta System?" The leader walked over to the large bank of glowing computer panels, which were being monitored by a handful of technicians. Milky-green light washed over a smooth, heart-shaped face as the leader leaned over the shoulder of the tech that had reported the signal. "What do you have on the signal?"   
"The data's still coming in." He pushed a series of buttons and a long list of numbers and figures appeared on the screen.   
"The intensity and magnitude of force...what a massive explosion!" The leader said in awe. "A supernova, perhaps?"   
"No. The readout indicates that the source of the signal was organic."   
"Saiyan?"   
"I can't be certain, but I doubt it; it's far too large and powerful."   
"Has anyone been able to intercept any transmissions coming from Vegetasei since it appeared?"   
Another tech looked up from his seat. "No, leader, and all transmissions directed to Vegetasei have gone unanswered."   
The leader stood back, arms crossed, thinking. "The Saiyans were part of the planet-clearing trade, were they not?"   
"Yes, leader," replied a third technician.   
"Under Frieza?"   
"Yes, leader."   
"What are Frieza's whereabouts at this moment?"   
The sounds of rapidly clicking keys filled the room as the workers busied themselves with the order. One of them gave a sudden victorious shout and pumped his fist in the air. A thin smile teased at the corners of the leader's lips as a second list of data appeared beside the first.   
"That's what I thought. I had heard rumors that Frieza feared the strength of the Saiyans, but I had never believed that he would actually go so far as to wipe them out completely." The smile turned into a sneer. "How cowardly, but if those furry-tailed barbarians were too dumb to figure it out beforehand then let them burn. What is our position relative to Vegetasei? Are we in range of any debris?"   
"Possibly. Would you like me to alter the ship's course?"   
A shiny mass of hair, color dark and indeterminable in the dim light, flew through the air as the leader looked back over one small, bare shoulder at the attendant.   
"Do what you deem necessary," she replied before turning on her heel and leaving.   
Author's Notes: Well, that's the end of this section. I would  
be lying if I didn't say that I'm sad that it had to end like  
it did. I'd grown slightly attached to my original characters,  
in particular Pazru. At the beginning, Pazru, Scleren, Kyokou,  
and later Moira were more of a means to an end, and also to  
reflect on the situation in ways that Turles was not capable of  
at the time. Pazru annoyed the heck out of me when I first  
started writing him. Maybe it's because he's basically my Mary-  
Sue...Mary-Steve....whatever, or rather he's like myself as I was  
when I first started writing this three years ago. But after I  
had picked this story back up a few months ago after having  
shelved it for over a year and got myself back to speed (if you  
can call it that ) I found that I actually liked him fairly  
well and through him I was able to better voice some of my own  
ideologies and beliefs in these last few chapters.  
  
People who have seen the Bardock Special are going to  
notice that I took a lot of dialogue from it in this chapter.  
The second and third sections are lifted almost directly from  
it. And yeah, I guess I have to say that Kyokou isn't  
completely my original character since he does appear in the  
Bardock Special (lol, have fun looking!). The dialogue I lifted  
is from the actual translation of the Japanese, not the  
Funimation translation. If you want to check it out and you  
have the dvd, set the subtitles to "Japanese", it should be the  
second subtitle track.  
  
So I need to know: What do you think so far? Did you like  
the ending of this section? Were you upset that I killed off  
almost all my characters? Email me your comments and  
criticisms. And when I say criticism, I mean criticism, what  
you hated, what you would have liked to happen, sections of the  
story that felt awkward or contrived, stuff like that, believe  
me, I want to know, and I won't get pissed off at you for  
telling me, actually I'll thank you!  
  
Random Thoughts: I liked the name-tag thing. Initially I  
wasn't sure how I was going to have Pazru pull that off. Moira  
came in pretty handy there; she really wasn't supposed to be  
anything more than some girl Pazru saw looking at him in the  
cafeteria, but she kind of just muscled for rank in my head so  
there you go.  
  
In the Future: I'm going to start Part 2 right away, and  
unlike the previous section, it's going to be a lot shorter. I  
had initially intended to make it just as long, but given the  
fact that I'm really interested to get the main story with an  
older Turles rolling, it's been chopped down. Don't worry, you  
won't be missing anything exciting. Part 3 is what I'm most  
excited to write, and that should also be the longest of the  
sections with the bulk of the story. If you looked at my story  
outline on the fanfic page you'll see that the title of Part 3  
is also the title of the fanfic proper. And if you've read the  
prelude to this story, then I think you might be able to figure  
out who the very last section of this chapter is referring to.  
If you want a timeframe, I would say that the prelude happens  
several months before this story. 


End file.
